


The Journey Home

by Fianna9, gatekat



Series: Kaizen [2]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M, Minor Character Death, Non-Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-16 17:45:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 76,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8111590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fianna9/pseuds/Fianna9, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatekat/pseuds/gatekat
Summary: Now free, the strange gestalt decides where to go, and makes the trek with ups, downs and a few questions. And no small amount of boredom.





	1. Choosing a Path

An orn and a half into the trip to the outpost and the cockpit was empty. All five gestalt members were in the room above it, taking in the unobstructed view of stars flashing by. Despite the vista none of them were really looking. They all knew the choice had to be made before one of their members glitched himself trying to plan out two contradictory paths that would work for them all.

"Fine, if no one else is going to say it, I will. We're going to Cybertron." Deadlock grunted.

"And what do we do once we're there? I don't see either the Autobots or Decepticons accepting our gestalt. Can you imagine approaching Megatron and introducing Prowl and Jazz as our gestalt mates? Or Ironhide not shooting the two of us?" Thundercracker grumbled. "Or are we supposed to separate and go back to shooting at each other?"

"Prime would welcome us, all of us, and Ironhide would obey," Prowl countered. "Whether you could ever fly again with every Decepticon Seeker after your wings is another matter."

"I'll be ostracized by the other Seekers for allowing Starscream to fight no matter what I do on our return; joining the Autobots would just speed up my deactivation by getting everyone shooting at me. I doubt your Seekers would accept me even if most of them weren't too insane to trust in flight," Thundercracker pondered the unpleasant reality he'd tried to ignore in their determination to get away; he had nowhere to go. "I wouldn't put it past some of the more violent ones to accidentally shoot me down. Or for some of the grounders to attack Deadlock and blame him for starting it."

"Depending on the base, we've got frontliners just like him, and worse. I'm sure Sunstreaker's reputation as reached Decepticon ranks," Prowl sighed quietly as he continued to try to work out how to return to his duties with the gestalt bond he had. 

"I'm right here you know," Deadlock growled.

"Yes. The point, however, was that putting two warriors like yourself in close quarters is a guarantee for fighting. No one would need to be blamed. It happens. I've dealt with Sunstreaker and Dogfight for long enough to know it isn't always a matter of who started it but that it is inevitable."

"So, if we got to the Cons, at least two of us are going to be Soundwave and Shockwave's personal playthings for as long as we last. If we go Bot, it's the rank and file to worry about. We go neutral, we'll be on _everyone's_ hit list, and I trained most of them," Jazz grumbled. "Still like our chances better with the Bots."

"I'm not worried about Sunstreaker; he'll come at me from the front if he wants to fight," Deadlock said. "It's the ones that don't seem to know when to stop pushing that are the problem."

"Don't forget both of your security clearances will be reduced if not outright removed because of our gestalt connection. They won't completely trust that we won't have access to classified information even if you say you won't give it to us," Thundercracker pointed out to Prowl before reflecting, "Although Flightplan does have a much better chance of staying sane if we aren't near Shockwave, I don't expect many of the Autobot troops will trust us once merged."

"No, they won't," Prowl agreed even as he cringed internally at the threat to his duties. "You won't be the first Decepticons we've taken in, though Thundercracker would be of the highest rank. It's been proven it can be done."

"I rather think most warriors will trust Flightplan as soon as he starts to lay into the enemy," Jazz pointed out. "Battlefield logic on their level is rather basic. If it's shooting at my enemy it's an ally until it shoots at me."

"The warriors aren't actually my biggest concern about the Autobots; we can fight to protect ourselves. It's the others, SpecOps, the scientists, security...those who's job is to think about possibilities other than just brute fighting." Thundercracker looked over at Jazz and then back at Prowl as he spoke, "You both have to have enemies among the Autobots; those who think they are better than you or those who would profit from your downfall. How do you counter an argument that being tied to us is changing your decision-making process? Or that you're more willing to accept casualties because you're linked to a Decepticon? Wing, Deadlock and I are new targets that can physically cripple you or render you ineffective as officers."

"I've got the allies to keep that under control," Jazz said easily, but his look at Prowl spoke volumes about how few real allies the tactician had. "Not even I have enough to keep _him_ quiet."

"I crushed him once, I can again," Prowl growled and the weak gestalt bond flared bright with a hatred not even Megatron inspired.

"In the time we'll have?" Jazz pressed. "Come on, you know the odds."

"You know how often I've beaten them when I'm the one at stake," Prowl almost hissed in reply. 

Surprise flashed across the gestalt bond from Jazz and he lifted his hands. "Not doubting you. Just asking the odds."

"Zero point zero zero zero zero zero zero one," Prowl responded very quietly.

"So if we go to the Autobots we'll be walking into at least a two-front war zone, and three of us can't play one of the games," Deadlock looked the tactician over, wondering who he hated that much and why they weren't offline yet. Maybe he should find out a designation and accidentally take them out. "Thundercracker and I don't have the power to keep you three online with the 'Cons. The Neutrals means no one at our backs and everyone gunning for us. I'm starting to think we should stay out here and play mercenary. Make some credits, kill things and not have anyone yelling at us."

"And leave what is left of Cybertron to melt to slag?" Prowl couldn't even try to control his horror at the idea, yet Jazz and Wing were both close enough to teek that there was something very off about the response. 

"Prowl, how is our return to Cybertron going to save anyone given what everyone has said is likely to happen once we are there?" Wing spoke up for the first time in the discussion. He had been away from Cybertron the longest, so he had been listening silently to everyone before making up his own mind on their destination. Right now though, he needed to know what was wrong with one of his flock. He kept monitoring Prowl closely as he said, "Perhaps it would be safer for all of us if we went somewhere else."

"Safer, yes..." Prowl acknowledged the truth of it even as he shuddered on a core level and kept sending the contradictory signals in his field.

"But duty is on Cybertron, against Megatron," Jazz wasn't guessing. At the curious looks he got, he shrugged. "It's my job to know everyone's weaknesses. Prowler here has slave code like nothing legal in generations."

"It's not slave code!" Prowl snarled, his doorwings wide and half on his pedes before Jazz scrambled over the back of the chair and held his hands up in a motion that immediately stopped the physical signals of aggression.

"Okay, okay, it's not slave code. What's it called?" Jazz worked him flawlessly. It was something both Wing and Thundercracker watched with open fascination at the display of simple manipulation being so effective against such an experienced, intelligent opponent.

"Enforcer coding," Prowl scowled, but the rest of him made it a signal of confusion rather than displeasure.

"Okay, so your Enforcer coding insists you return to work," Jazz continued carefully and got a nod. "So you don't have much choice. You have to return. Kinda ends the conversation. We're going to Cybertron."

Prowl began to relax.

"So currently our best option is to approach the Autobots," Wing glanced over at Thundercracker, trying to silently ask him to help with the situation. He kept his field calm even though his anger at older slave coding left in a member of his flock was making him more reluctant to side with the Autobots. "Would it increase our chances if Jazz approached first and made contact with his allies before the rest of us joined him?"

"Definitely. There will be a significant debriefing and screening process..." Prowl began.

"You don't know the half of it," Jazz chuckled. "Who's got the next cockpit shift?"

"It's mine," Prowl volunteered despite it being Deadlock's turn.

Deadlock wasn't going to argue about missing a boring shift in the cockpit, especially after that display, so he kept silent as the Praxian stood and left the room. Not wanting to be overheard, he waited until Prowl was off the floor before saying, "So if Prime that much of a hypocrite with everyone or just willfully blind when it's more convenient? Or is it more freedom for everyone who agrees with me and does what I want?"

"He can't consider any other alternatives than to return, can he?" Wing asked.

"Prime knows, and he knows that Ratchet can't undo the coding without wiping Prowl clean from base code up. Mech was sparked with it, his frame designed with it in mind and he's hardly ever challenged it. Some's even true hardcode," Jazz sighed. "I can take it out, but the net results won't be much better than he is right now. It'll still drive him to return to his duty and Praxus, even if he's completely blank." He shifted focus to Wing. "Please tell me there's some kind of ranking Praxian in this city of yours. No Enforcer would leave, but nobles can give him orders. Probably."

"There are some Praxians back on Aelios, and a few of noble heritage though I'm not certain how high ranked they would have been back in the city. Hopefully one of them will be able to help," Wing got up and paced briefly, the last traces of his previous concerns gone. His flock needed what only his home could provide, and he would bring them there regardless of the potential personal consequences. "Having heard everyone's concerns I was going to suggest we head there instead of to Cybertron. Prowl can't choose for himself; that coding means that in this case we have to make the best choice for him."

"How are we going to lie to him about where we're going when he's at the controls?" Thundercracker asked.

"We aren't," Jazz said grimly. "He's going to spend the trip in medical stasis."

"Honestly, once we have supplies for it, it would be for the best in the long run if all of you did," Wing suggested. "The city's survived this long because no one leaves."

"You did," Deadlock motioned to the very fact that the jet was with them.

"Yes, and it is technically an act of treason that I'll be punished for. We've taken in a handful of others than have come over the vorns. It's not unknown. Just rare," Wing insisted.

"How rare?" Jazz focused on the primary point for him.

"Half a dozen since the Exodus. Two couldn't settle. The others are citizens now," Wing tried to put the best spin on it that he could.

"Those aren't good odds for us," Thundercracker couldn't help looking the Aerial over, worried what the Knights would consider a punishment for treason. He knew what the Decepticons would do and did not want to see Wing harmed like that. Even the Autobots were too harsh on traitors for his immediate flock.

"Better than on Cybertron," Jazz countered, earning a grunt from Thundercracker. "We're all good at beating odds."

"It's the best option I can see for all of us. There are no Autobots or Decepticons so we won't have enemies on every side. The Knights do not allow torture like what we endured," Wing couldn't help quickly glancing over at Deadlock as he spoke. "It's a chance to return to a more peaceful life without the war."

"Life never was peaceful," Deadlock grunted.

"Don't mind him, he grew up in the gutters and underworld," Jazz distracted Wing. "What happened to the ones who couldn't settle?"

"One deactivated trying to escape. The other was reformatted for violent crimes," Wing admitted sadly.

"So if it doesn't work out for us we're going to have to sneak out the way we just did? Cause it doesn't sound like someplace that's going to accept me." Deadlock asked.

"You don't have to choose to physically attack others," Thundercracker pointed out. "I'm more concerned that they will accept us."

"The Seekers will be more likely to accept you than those you have described back among the Decepticons and Autobots. Those that are trineless should welcome the chance to see if they are compatible with you," Wing offered, knowing it would appeal to the Order.

Jazz leaned back in his chair and studied the Seeker for a moment. "What were you, before the war? I know you were an Air Martial -- law enforcement -- and you were going to be a flock leader, but what didn't make it into your modern designation?"

"I held a fourth degree in law enforcement and I used to help with flight training for the younger members of my flock," Thundercracker hesitated for a moment before deciding to admit his secret hobby, "I also wrote stories although I don't think any of them were ever published."

"That's four things you could do in the city and from what I remember that's a very good education. You probably know enough about some things to teach," Wing perked up. "How old were you when you entered the war?"

"Old enough to see the inevitable," he sighed. "Twenty thousand or so. I try not to think about it."

Wing nodded and glanced at Jazz. 

The former SpecOps commander chuckled mirthlessly. "Thirty-two thousand, but what you mean, I was four hundred when I was recruited into ISO and on the streets before that. Deadlock had three orns from what I heard, and Prowler ... depending on how you look at it, he was either sparked into it or he was about nine thousand when Praxus was razed."

Wing couldn't imagine being so young and spending so long living in such violence, but it did explain how vicious his flock could be. The violence had kept them all alive for so long and was most likely a permanent part of all of them. Still, there was more to them than just aggression, and he was convinced they could learn to fit in peacefully just as the other warriors had done. "Even if we set aside Flightplan's usefulness, the four of you have a lot to offer and could find opportunities to thrive in the city. Yes, even you Deadlock," Wing turned towards the mech who'd just strongly teeked of disbelief. "I believe you have value and worth beyond your fighting skills, and the four of us can help you figure out what you want to do."

"This city doesn't have any sports?" Deadlock looked at him in growing disbelief.

"He means gladiator arenas, or at least sanctioned fighting," Jazz translated.

"Gladiator arenas, no; that is one of the things we chose to leave back on Cybertron. There is some sanctioned fighting but not to the death," Wing thought for a bit and decided to work on convincing Deadlock to consider other career options later. This would probably be the biggest lifestyle change for him. Everyone else seemed to know what a peaceful society was on some level. "There are some fighting disciplines you could learn if you are willing to study, and I know some mecha who would welcome the challenge of a new sparring partner."

"Why study?" Deadlock scowled in confusion. "It's my _gift_."

"It's an opportunity to learn other methods like what Prowl and I use," Wing said. "Learning other styles would help you fight when not berserk."

"We don't know if you'll attack us when it happens," Thundercracker pointed out. "I've never heard of another true berserker in a gestalt."

"Training would also a way to catch your opponents off-guard. They expect you to fight one way, so you throw in some unexpected moves and take them down," Jazz suggested.

Deadlock grunted. "We'll have to stop on empty worlds."

"We'll want to anyway. Two fliers and two drivers in this unit. We _need_ the empty space," Jazz pointed out. "Besides, I get the impression the trip to Wing's city is a long one at best."

Wing nodded. "Yes, that is another reason I suggested medical stasis for everyone. It is a very long journey and supplies will be an issue if we are all active. After all this time as a slave I've learned to tolerate long periods without Cybertronian company."

"You should have at least one of us active with you. Solitude is not good for anyone and we can make supplies last. You might be surprised at how little we each need to keep functioning." Thundercracker said firmly, not liking the idea that Wing would be alone for any long period of time. The Aerial might claim that he could handle the isolation, but it could be a very different matter once it actually happened.

"We can all stay online individually or as a group for at least part of the trip, but Prowl won't be able to be out of stasis for more than the first stop or two. He will notice the change in course and will have to redirect us to Cybertron," Jazz pointed out. "I don't like the idea of being in stasis that long."

"No way I'm going into stasis," Deadlock growled.

"You might choose to at some point; I might spend at least a little while that way myself. It is a very monotonous journey," Wing shrugged. "The only time you'll all have to be in stasis is when we get closer to the system. I have to remain firm on that part, and you will have to trust me that it is important."

"What does it matter?" Jazz asked. "We're going to be awake on the ground."

Guessing how Thundercracker was going to react, Wing vented briefly before answering, "The city isn't on the ground; it's completely underground. Most of the inhabitants don't know what system they are actually living in, and you will not find a planet called Aelios on any star chart. That is the name we've given it."

They all saw understanding flash across Jazz's features before he nodded acceptance. "Been there, done that. Not going to like it, but I get it."

"Underground?" Thundercracker's armor fluffed and wings flared. "How can Seekers stand that?"

"The entire city is in an enormous open cavern. There is plenty of room to stretch your wings and fly, even for Seekers," Wing tried to stress that it would work out. "There are also a number of driving tracks."

Thundercracker looked at him warily, then extended an arm to call Wing to him. "Show me."

Moving closer, Wing offered Thundercracker a hardline cable and waited for him to accept. Once the Seeker established the connection Wing offered him the memory files from the surveys when they chose the city location and also a memory of flying through the city. ~It really is a good place to live.~

The Seeker grunted, but there was acceptance in his field. "It's not open sky, but it's good enough."

"It has worked for a very long time for the Seekers and Aerials back home, and no one has truly experienced sky hunger," Wing glanced over at Deadlock, the last hold out. "Are you in agreement with us on this plan?"

"Pit no," Deadlock snorted. "I'm not going anywhere that fighting isn't allowed."

Thundercracker turned to Deadlock, keeping calm as he spoke, "As a group we don't have a lot of options for what to do, and this is the best one anyone has offered so far. No matter what Prowl's coding demands returning to Cybertron is not going to go well given what will undoubtedly happen. Do you have a suggestion of what we should do besides becoming mercenaries?"

"What's wrong with mercs? It's not like the Cons are fighting for anything now." Deadlock growled in frustration.

Thundercracker's wings flared at the reminder of how far their faction had fallen. "It leaves us visible if someone decides to try to collect on the bounty that has undoubtedly been placed on us. It also gives us no real allies if and when we are attacked."

"And hiding in some hole is better?" Deadlock's sneer was as much confusion as deriding.

"It will keep us online and functioning while allowing us time to train Flightplan," Thundercracker sent a warning to Wing before continuing, "We will need to keep our options open depending on what happens when we arrive, but for now it is the best destination available."

Deadlock grunted, then shrugged. "A bolthole with energon's better than nothing."

Wing disconnected the hardline connection and stood up, "Then we all agree that this is the best option. We're going to need to remember to keep Prowl out of this part of the plan, and actively talk about how to make Cybertron work until he's in stasis. As for that, Jazz, you're going to have to be the one who puts him into medical stasis; I can't imagine his coding will trust anyone but an Autobot to do it."

"I'd call his regard for me a long way from trust, but yeah, I'm the only one who can. That tac-net he's got is a Unicron's spawn towards strangers," Jazz didn't hide that he wasn't looking forward to tangling with Prowl's processors again. "Though it'd be easier with a distraction. Ever been with a Praxian ... or Seeker for that matter?"

"Both," Wing answered with a curious lilt.

"He'd never turn down a threesome with us," Jazz explained. "You being there will leave me with enough energy once he's out to drop him into stasis."

Wing ignored Thundercracker's minor teek of displeasure at the suggestion that even the Seeker knew was the only realistic option. "I probably shouldn't attempt to hardline since the tac-net knows I'm a neutral. Just let me know beforehand what I need to do to make it easier for you to succeed."

"Of course," Jazz nodded. "Just enjoy yourself and make sure he gets off with anything physical. The stuff you've done with him already. It's just an evening of pleasure to build unit bonds."

"That I can gladly do," Wing agreed.

* * *

Wing waited until Prowl had settled in for the next piloting shift before deciding to ask Jazz the question that had been bothering him. Knowing Thundercracker was recharging in their shared quarters, he waited patiently for Deadlock to finally head down for some energon before asking, "Do you have a bit to talk privately?"

"Sure," Jazz nodded and stood with a smooth grace. "How private?"

"Your quarters, perhaps? Mine are occupied at the moment, and I don't really want to disturb him," Wing rose and followed Jazz out of the viewing room.

"Sure thing," Jazz leaned into Wing's field a bit, seeking to teek a hint of the subject matter out, or at least what flavor of serious it was. It wasn't much, a wary curiosity and light arousal, but it was enough to tell him that the subject matter wasn't too serious.

Once they were inside and the door was closed Wing said, "Sorry about being so vague out there; it's a question related to our earlier group discussion."

"Shoot," Jazz swung around to sit in the room's chair backwards. "What's up?"

Wing stood beside the door and asked, "When we were all talking about what to do next, as soon as Prowl left the room you immediately began talking about going to my city as if it were the only option available. I hadn't really brought up the idea of going back yet. Why were you so eager to set Aelios as our ultimate destination?"

"Because the war won't end with anything left of Cybertron," Jazz answered grimly. "I know you understand war can be ugly and grim, but nothing in our past is comparable to what's happening now. I know what led up to the Exodus. I've got a fair idea of what's on Aelios. Even if it's no better than the underlevels of Cybertron before the war it's still a huge improvement over what's there now. Think about it this way. If we return to Cybertron, the absolute best we can hope for is to be locked away by the Autobots. Not trusted, not used, not free, but functioning so long as the outpost isn't overridden. On Aelios, we'll be _repaired_ , watched, restricted, but there's a good chance we'll eventually be free citizens again without going back to the war. Even you'll be free again. Prowl's arguably the finest lawyer still in existence simply because he knows every minute detail of every law and is shameless in using that to do what he believes is right. What he can't do with logic I can do with emotional appeal and lateral thinking. Even Thundercracker's a good lawyer, based on his training in law enforcement and being a ranking officer. We may not know the laws of Aelios, but give us a few orns and we'll be there."

Jazz paused and regarded Wing thoughtfully. "Being given a choice between going back to the war as a command officer and performing for myself, I'll take performing."

Once again reminded of the pragmatic nature of most of his gestalt mates, Wing thought seriously about what Jazz had just explained and the rational behind his previous actions. It was still a bit unsettling finding out that Jazz was that well informed even though in retrospect it made sense that he would know since he was Spec Ops, and Prowl had already admitted knowing about the Exodus. Wing also felt a bit of his own personal worries ease; it hadn't occurred to him that Jazz was already planning for the three of them to argue his case.

"I can tell you that there will always be an interest in new performances."

Jazz smiled softly. "Nice to know. Even though it was never really my function, I've made a solid rep for myself a couple times over the vorns. Working into the industry from the ground up kinda thing for a cover. I'm good with doing it again. Besides, your memories of the city seem pretty nice."

Apparently Jazz had gotten more from him in the past then he'd realized, but Wing couldn't find much reason to get upset given Jazz's current function. Especially considering that Wing was originally an unknown outsider who'd been introduced serving the scientists who'd altered all of them. Smiling back he knelt, settling on the floor before speaking. "It is a good place to live, especially given what all of you have said about Cybertron. Hopefully Deadlock can learn to fit in so we can all find a place there."

Jazz nodded. "Mech's a survivor, just like the rest of us. Rougher around the edges and poorly educated, but just as adaptable. He'll find a place. At a minimum he has the four of us looking out for him so he'll have the time for it. What are the laws about involuntary reformatting?"

Wing grimaced in memory of the mecha who hadn't adapted, "If Deadlock caused severe injury and showed no remorse that could happen, especially if it happens more than once. It would partially depend upon why he fought and whether or not he was provoked. The law takes into account self-defense as well as different types of provocation."

"I was thinking of Prowl," Jazz said quietly. "He's coding's a mess and I'm not so sure it can be fixed without a full wipe."

That made him think for a long moment before finally answering, "I don't know what the medics would say about his case given all the circumstances. Prowl might argue against it, but the gestalt link might give us some sway with the authorities if it comes to that."

Jazz looked at him sadly. "You really haven't dealt with pre-progs much. Prowl's coding demands that he return to the war and protect Praxus, though by now he's twisted it to avenging Praxus. How he managed that, I have no clue. He's smart, strong willed and stubborn, but no matter how much he might want it he _can't_ stop trying to go back. I'm honestly amazed he managed the level of consent to this plan he has."

Wing ducked his head a bit embarrassed by the misunderstanding, "Very few pre-progs joined the Exodus, and, from what you're saying, many of them may not have been able to leave their duties. I admit I haven't had much interaction with those few that do reside in the city. The medics will need to be informed of that part of his coding before he's brought out of stasis, but Redline would know to take that into account when evaluating and repairing him. If they can't remove that from his code, he probably will have to be reformatted for his own sake."

"Yeah. And that means we're going to have to raise a very confused Praxian from the ground up. Depending on how much coding can't be wiped and how much of Praxus still exists on Aelios, we might have to fight for that right too," Jazz tried to paint a picture of what they were facing with Prowl. 

"I don't really know how much of the Praxian ways survive among those in the city," Wing shrugged apologetically, "I'm no expert on this sort of law, but from what I understand the gestalt coding should at least allow family access to him if they do insist on other Praxians raising him. Thundercracker's newly reactivated creator coding should help our case as well provided he can tolerate raising a grounder."

"If they haven't torn each other to shreds by now, they won't. Though how well TC handles actually being listed as a creator of any type will depend on how the local Seekers take to the idea and him," Jazz explained. "A lot's going to depend on how much your city is a city and how much is 'little cities' pretending they're unified."

"Normally I would attempt to reassure you that it is a functioning, unified city working for the common good," Wing said, "but I think it would be better if you saw for yourself since you are skilled at discovering hidden truths. Especially given that I'm a Knight so most of my daily interactions are with other Knights not the civilian population."

"One doesn't preclude the other," Jazz smiled at him. "The little cities can unify with the city they're part of while still maintaining their independence and culture. I expect Aelios is more unified than most just by now it came about, but we'll see. Question is, how much do you want to know?"

"Whatever it takes; we need to know enough to protect our team," Wing said firmly. "I will do whatever I can to protect everyone, but my influence among the Knights will probably be limited for some time. I do have acquaintances in many parts of the city and among many different frame-types. At the least I can give you designations as starting points for your information searches."

"Thanks. Contacts are always a good thing," Jazz slid to his pedes and came around to stroke Wing's shoulders.

Wing leaned back into the contact, "Thank you for answering my questions and explaining things. I want to do everything I can to help protect our team."

"Same here," Jazz purred and knelt to kiss Wing's neck. "But now that business is done with, some fun?"

"Whenever possible pleasure should always follow business," Wing agreed readily. Now that his previous concerns were addressed he gladly shifted his focus to the frame next to him.

* * *

A decaorn into their escape flight and everyone had relaxed significantly. They were outside their former owner's realm and while bounty hunters were still of concern, the far greater threat was simply being recognized for the race they were. Now they were docked in a mid-sized trading station, a place where everyone and everything in the quadrant crossed paths eventually.

"Well, we passed test one," Jazz announced as he strode into the cargo back of the _Ambergret_ , which now declared it was the _Sitril_ both by markings and transponder. "Who's going out?"

Thundercracker looked around at the others before speaking, "I'll stay on the ship on watch while the four of you resupply. It's almost impossible to disguise my frame-type, and someone needs to stay here to make certain any intruders are properly discouraged."

"Give us a list of anything you want picked up while we're here," Wing offered. "Wax, polish, datapads, whatever will help make things more comfortable."

Thundercracker paused, then glanced between Wing and Prowl. "Flight grade finishing supplies, a datapad or three, an educational file on current galactic law and the political state of this place."

Prowl dipped his doorwings. "I know what you mean. We can share the political data."

"Agreed," Thundercracker flicked his wings.

"Are we sticking together?" Jazz glanced around.

Wing thought for a moment, "Sticking to pairs might be a good idea until we get the lay of the place. We can watch each other's back and keep each other out of trouble."

"I saw that," Deadlock grunted. "You thinking I'm going to go looking for a fight?"

"Say honestly that you weren't," Prowl regarded him flatly. 

"Right, so that takes you out as Deadlock's shopping buddy," Jazz grinned to take the sting out before looking at Deadlock. "So which of us would you rather hang out with?"

Deadlock glared at Prowl for a moment before saying, "I'll go with Jazz; you and Wing can get Thundercracker's stuff."

"That sounds like a good plan," Wing agreed.

"Works for me," Jazz added cheerfully and motioned for Thundercracker to get out of sight before palming the control panel when he was clear. He shifted to settle the hood of his robe and stole a glance at the others. That Prowl could fold his doorwings under the hood of his alt mode was still surprising at times, but it was a good surprise now. It mean he could help out in public. "Everybody keep in touch, remember to keep to the local standard. The last thing we need is a Red Alert freaking out over encryption."

"Be discrete and blend in," Wing muttered to himself as he and Prowl headed down the ramp. Deadlock followed after Jazz, and they trailed after the other two as the group walked out of the bay. "Well, first thing Jazz said he was going to go look for was spare parts for the ship and maybe some additional security stuff. Most of the rest of the stuff should be easy to find from various merchants. Should we start with finishing supplies? I could use some myself, and I know what Thundercracker would want."

"As do I," Prowl nodded, though it caused only a slight shifting of his hood as they angled towards the market. "I believe we would all feel much better with a proper finish. Have you been in many spaceports like this?"

"I've been through a few, although it was all before joining up with you," Wing answered quietly, careful to phrase things to avoid attracting attention. "I haven't been to this one before, but there are certain things most of them seem to have in common."

"Good," Prowl kept his voice quiet as well, but his teek was of significant discomfort and Wing could pick it up despite that they were both holding their fields close. Mechanoids weren't the only beings that could teek, just the majority. "Start with the necessities and move on from there. We have enough for a few extra items."

"The port business registry says there is a detail shop down this way," Wing moved to discretely put himself between Prowl and the strangers brushing past them, teeking to see if it helped put him more at ease. There wasn't much, but there was definite thanks in Prowl's field.

The best news to both of them was that no one had glanced at them more than once and no one had stared at all. So by the time they stepped into the shop full of familiar smells that spoke of civilization and comfort they were both a bit more relaxed. Wing glanced around for the proprietor as Prowl started looking at the stock, checking the quality the various polishes and waxes available. There were a few other merchants that might have what they were looking for if it wasn't found here, but they'd agreed this seemed like the most promising on the list. They wanted good quality, but nothing truly special, so the largest seller in the port was a good bet. Jazz had even given them what prices were a good deal for what they wanted.

"Greetings!" The proprietor called as she moved out of the back and started towards Prowl, "How may this humble femme assist you?" She was a small, blue-and-gray mechanoid with ornate headfins; Wing was certain she wasn't a Cybertronian but was unsure of her planet of origin.

"Touch up paint, wax and polish for three ground racers and two jets," Prowl answered and relaxed a bit more around her. Cybertronian or not, at least she'd understand what color and polish meant. "Good quality at least, and I'd like to check out the performance quality."

"Those are acceptable for most work frames," she waved her hand dismissively at the stock in front of Prowl and motioned them both further down the aisle. "True racers will want the stock over here; much better quality and a smoother finish. I will show you the flight quality supplies next. I have a polish that will make those wings truly stand out."

Glancing at the products she'd dismissed Prowl noticed they were designed for those more interested in durability than flash. While it would have been better than nothing, he knew all of them would take better finish over energon additives any orn. It was a mark of civilization, of safety and comfort. Much as a good hot shower.

Bemused, Wing trailed after her while Prowl went to the better polishes. Concealed as he was, Wing could still tell that his gestalt mate had found some things he was pleased about.

They both kept on alert for anyone else entering the shop, especially as they were now separated. Glancing towards the flight frame section she was leading him to, he could already see he'd need to be careful about the price points.

"What kind of flight frames?" she asked pleasantly, her teek very happy to have him there. He suspected she didn't have mechanoid company of any kind often.

"A small-winged stunt frame and a small wide-winged distance flier," Wing hoped he was translating well enough. He was so used to using the designations, or just showing his frame, to indicate what he might need for maintenance materials.

"These three shelves are designed for the stunt frame," She pointed at the shelves at the lower end of Wing's optic level before motioning to the higher shelves that would be comfortably within Thundercracker's line of sight. "The three shelves above them are all products for the wider-winged fliers. Lower shelves are waxes; top shelves are polish. Easy to remember. Don't bother climbing up to the higher shelves; those are for the larger, space-worthy fliers. Those more worried about reentry than being optic-catching."

It was obvious to Wing that this section was stocked with the sizes of the likely purchasers in mind. He started looking over the shelves, trying to spot any familiar logos.

Nimbly scaling the shelving, the proprietor pointed at a bright green container on the lowest shelf, "That's a good wax for the credits. It spreads evenly and lasts a while, but it looks better on matte paint so we need to keep the stunt frame's finish in mind. What colors are we working with?"

"The stunt frame is a low-gloss white with red highlights," he gave her the exact colors. "The other is a matte medium blue and white."

"This, and this, would be my recommendations for the stunt frame then," she pointed to containers closer to Wing's optic level. "They look best with the bright, primary colors. The first one would do well for the other."

He scanned the choices she pointed out, noted the price per cubic unit, and selected from the offerings. It was a respectable price for what they needed.

"I have the touch-up paint queued for mixing. What are the grounder's colors?" She asked with a warm smile and landed neatly next to him, close enough to teek the flirting field.

Wing smiled at her and gave the galactic color code standard.

"I'll have a sample of each pulled to make sure," she promised. "If you can pause a moment, your companion looks a bit overwhelmed."

"Go ahead," Wing gave a nod and glanced towards Prowl. He though he looked more deep in calculations than overwhelmed, but it was close enough. It was good that the proprietor was paying attention to all the customers, and he saw the same level of attention to Prowl as went to him. That meant the silent flirting wasn't likely to be directed at him.

While she helped Prowl with the grounder supplies Wing decided to take a look around and see if anything else caught his interest. Looking over the shelves he spotted an interesting shimmer coating that looked like something some of his friends back in the city would appreciate. It was still within budget and might be a good treat to bring back with him. If didn't look exactly like what was available back home, so it was open for duplication.

Another glance as he saw Prowl move towards the register marked the Praxian as quite pleased with whatever he'd found, so Wing grabbed the shimmer coating and headed to join him. They did a quick check on the paint samples and Wing held his vocalizer over the additional six samples, including two that were true metallics. As they paid he couldn't help but notice that Prowl's teek was well past pleased and suspected the Praxian had found a brand that was familiar as a desirable one. 

It wasn't until the supplies were safely in subspace and they were out that he spoke. "Did you find something special?"

"An import from long ago. It's been ages. The extra touch up colors will bring everyone back up to standard," Prowl explained as they noted two file stores to get back to later on the way to the mineral shops.

They entered the first of the shops, noting the large bins of materials and coating of slime on the floor. A bulky, green mechanoid in robes similar to theirs had just finished purchasing and was walking away from the yellow organic slug-like being behind the counter. Spotting his new customers, he moved out from behind the register, flashing a welcome with the blue bio-luminescent patches around his optics. "Greetings, how may I assist you?"

"At this point we are browsing for a selection of mineral powders and shavings," Prowl answered smoothly as he took in the available options.

"For cooking or artwork?" The proprietor asked after giving the pair a good look up and down while Wing began to browse in earnest.

"Cooking, primarily," Prowl answered honestly. "Just some flavor to add to travel rations."

"Prices are for indicated amounts," the proprietor nodded towards the labels on the bins. "Any bulk discounts available are listed."

Wing looked at the labeling on the bin of copper. It was a bit higher than Jazz had quoted, but he'd need to check some of the others if specific prices had fluctuated or if they were going to be overcharged buying here. A commotion on the street drew his attention away from browsing.

Four port patrol officers approached the entrance to the shop at a fast clip by the sounds of their boots; three of them waited blocking the doorway. One of them, marked as a lieutenant, entered the shop and glanced at Prowl and Wing before approaching the proprietor and showed him a small screen. "Got a few questions for you if you have a moment. We're looking for some thieves wanted by one of the local governments. Have you seen anyone suspicious matching these descriptions?"

The slug pondered the images on the datapad for a long klik then made a burbling noise. "That one I saw yesterday. Came in and brought twenty kilos of silica. Haven't seen the others."

The lieutenant turned walked over to Prowl, holding out the screen, "Excuse me, have you seen these individuals?" On the screen were the images of four mechanoids: two mostly orange, one mostly white and the last black and green.

Prowl did his best to recall honestly before he shook his helm. "Sorry, no. We docked under than a lesser cycle ago."

The lieutenant glanced over at Wing before leaning forward trying to look under Prowl's hood, likely attracted by the sound and cadence of a mechanoid's vocalizer. Prowl didn't actively avoid the effort and the local LEO got a glance at white face plates and glowing pale blue optics. "Which ship are you with? How long are you staying?"

"We are on the _Sitril_ and are scheduled to be here about two greater cycles," Wing volunteered, walking over to take a look at the image. He hoped being helpful would help to allay the officer's suspicions. "Sorry, I don't recognize them either."

The lieutenant gestured to Wing, wanting to see under his hood as well. Wing obliged and tipped his hood back a bit, letting the lieutenant clearly see another white face plate and the glow of golden optics. After making a check against the images and apparently being satisfied with the results, he sounded a bit friendlier when he spoke again, "Let us know if you see them about. We don't want troublemakers here."

"Agreed," Prowl's response came purely from the LEO he still was, even without a badge, district or homeworld. "What did they steal?"

The lieutenant looked at Prowl for a moment before answering, "They stole some guns, credits, a fancy sculpture and a bunch of random stuff, everything from security cameras to somebody's desk. They got someone high up back there upset, so we're checking around for them."

Prowl's engine gave a low growl before he cut it. "We'll report them."

"Good, we appreciate any cooperation. Sorry for disrupting your business," the lieutenant nodded to the proprietor before stepping out to join the others outside.

As Wing listened to their retreating steps he briefly hoped the two of them wouldn't prove too memorable to the lieutenant later, but Prowl's professional demeanor would most likely keep any connection to missing slaves from being made before they were gone. Turning back to the bins, Wing started comparing more prices to Jazz's list and his own memories of rarity.

* * *

"They're back," Thundercracker said as he walked into the lounge where Prowl and Wing were laying out their acquisitions.

"Good, we can find out how everything went for them," Wing put the last container of polish down and turned to wait for the others. Grabbing a tray with two cubes, he offered them to Jazz and Deadlock as they walked in. Nodding towards the containers of additives, he asked, "Any preferences?"

"Ooo, how'd we afford this?" Jazz made a bee-line for one of the waxes Prowl had found. "Anything sweet," he added to Wing and surrendered his cube without hesitation.

"We are much closer to where it is produced," Prowl smiled faintly as his doorwings lifted in pleasure. "Lower demand here may also play a role."

Quietly noting Deadlock's confusion, Wing asked as he added a bit of silicon to Jazz's cube, "Do you have a preference for sweet, acidic or otherwise, Deadlock? It's been a while since I've had access, and I'm curious to see if my tastes have changed."

"Never had anything but sludge in energon," Deadlock shrugged and dropped into the chair he'd claimed as his own.

"Lightly sweet with some sodium," Thundercracker said as he sat and took in the section. "We'll fly much better with as proper finish."

Wing passed Jazz his cube before mixing his own. "We found a good supplier of waxes and polishes. Did you two have any luck?"

"Oh yeah," Jazz began to unlock his subspace. Pulling out several datapads, he nodded towards Prowl, "We found some repair manuals in case anything gets damaged while we're out here as well as some lighter reading for everyone. Big thing is Deadlock searched out a source who gave us some intel on Cybertron. There's been some big changes back home."

Thundercracker shifted uneasily but Prowl leaned forward and his doorwings swung up in peaked interest. "Report."

Jazz glanced over at Thundercracker, "Like you figured; Starscream's out and hasn't been seen in a while. The Seekers have been scrambling fighting over who is in charge, and there's no word of a clear winner yet. My guess is whoever wins if they don't have a true trine is going to claim him."

"They'll try, at any rate," Thundercracker agreed. "Any sightings of Skywarp?"

Jazz shrugged, "Not that they mentioned, but the info we had was that the whole command trine disappeared, so I wouldn't write him off as scrap yet. That teleporting trick keeps him online in situations that would slag another mech."

"Him and Star," Thundercracker sighed.

"Anything on the Autobot side, or the war in general?" Prowl asked.

"Things have gotten rougher for both sides," Deadlock said as he took a drink from his cube. "Lots more casualties, and the twins have a worse reputation than when I left."

Prowl stilled briefly. "How could their reputation be any worse?"

"The rumor mill says they're practically considered a danger to their own side," Jazz grunted. "They're turned loose in the worst situations with no real back-up. Magnus seems to want them offlined, but they're too stubborn for that to happen."

A small, knowing smile crossed Prowl's features. "Stubborn and Primus is looking out for His chosen ones."

"Say what?" Deadlock stared at the Praxian.

Prowl relaxed back. "Split spark twins are _special_."

Jazz gave Prowl a wary look before continuing, "Yeah, well the twins have survived everything else that's been thrown at them. Anyway, things are getting a lot more violent on both sides with no end in sight. Word is that the rest of the universe is staying as far away from Cybertron as possible."

"Then we have at least two pieces of good news," Prowl sighed. "The Autobots still have an exceptional tactician and the universe will not invade too soon."

"Yeah, everyone seems to want to stay as far away from the self-genociding, trigger-happy glitches back home as possible," Deadlock shrugged.

"It also means we really aren't welcome most places without the disguises," Jazz added. "It's a good thing Thundercracker stayed on the ship."

"I'd be far more concerned about roving Decepticons, the DJD and other Cybertronians looking for a bounty than any organics," Thundercracker huffed. "We need to hide who we are, not what we are."

"I don't entirely disagree," Prowl said quietly. "We still want to be careful, we want to use common disguises like we did, but Thundercracker is correct on who we need to worry about more."

"I don't know much about the DJD beyond what you've told me, but I think attracting the least amount of attention from any quarter would probably be a good thing right now. Especially since organics may pass word of us where the Cybertronian bounty hunters might overhear," Wing said. "We heard about another group of mechanoids causing problems in the area, and they might work as a partial cover for us as well. At least they're diverting some attention away from us."

"Agreed," Jazz nodded after giving a sigh of pleasure at the sweetened energon. 

"We've got extra repair parts being delivered over the next two orns," Deadlock took a long drink. "Anything else we need to pick up in this dump before we split?"

"I wouldn't mind making another treat run before we go," Wing said. "We found some good deals and having extra supplies will help smooth things over when we get back."

"We have the funds, though keep in mind this is not our last stop," Prowl both agreed and cautioned. "It would be best to keep most reserve funds intact until we are closer to home."

Wing idly picked up one of the containers of wax. "Yeah, but we already know some of these things are probably going to be more expensive in mechanoid systems. I fully intend to try our purchases out and see if I like them well enough to buy more now, especially since I don't recognize most of the brands."

"Some will be, some won't be. Bulk demand does lower the price, and some are made there," Jazz pointed out, then waved towards one. "As far as Autobots are concerned, that one's going to have the most value. Prowl's addicted to it as a Praxian Enforcer, but it's very well liked across the board now. Does a mirror shine like little else that was cheap."

Wing glanced over at Prowl, "When we left the shop you said the price on it was reasonable, so it would make sense to stock up on a few containers before leaving. That wouldn't dip too far into our funds."

"Bribes can be a good thing," Deadlock pointed out casually. "Even legal bribes called gifts."

"They go a long way towards settling Sunstreaker so long as Sideswipe isn't riled as well," Prowl chuckled a bit at apparently fond memories. "I was leery of buying too much. If it isn't popular with other mechanoids it could single us out."

Deadlock reached forward to snag the container. "No worries there. This stuff even organics like for the same reason Sunstreaker does. High gloss at low price."

"And you took advantage of it when you were out with Turmoil," Jazz grinned at him with approval.

"Of course," Deadlock snorted. "Be a fool not to."

"Sounds like we're going to make at least one more shopping trip before we leave," Wing climbed out of his chair and made a show of grabbing a pair of containers. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get cleaned up and try these out."

That had Thundercracker on his pedes. "I'll work your wings."

* * *

The excitement in the cockpit of the _Sitril_ was palpable without teeking. For those embroiled in each other's fields as the desolate rocky moon came into more and more detail, bathed in the light of a yellow-orange star, it was nearly intolerable.

"Set us down already!" Deadlock demanded even though he knew they couldn't go in any faster with much safety.

Thundercracker wasn't in much better shape although he managed to keep from berating Jazz as he angled for a landing. The Seeker hadn't even had the chance to wander the port like the others, and he was antsy to get out of the ship and fly like a Seeker should. To fly with Wing, loop this rock a few times, dive and dance and see what Wing's stunt frame could really do.

Even the rattle of the shuttle settling down didn't slow how quickly any of them unstrapped from their chairs or rushed for the bay door with varying levels of dignity. Deadlock made it first as he didn't care what they thought of his dead bolt run for freedom. Prowl surprised the others by being right on his heelplates. Thundercracker and Wing weren't far behind though. Jazz had drawn the unlucky straw of landing and securing their craft so everyone knew he'd be last.

"Try and keep up, 'bot," Deadlock yelled, peeling out and heading off into the distance with Prowl right on his tail. Getting chased by the Enforcer just seemed to amp up the excitement for both of them.

Even as he kept track of where his grounded flockmates were heading, Thundercracker transformed and launched himself into the sky. Heading upward as swiftly as possible, he set out for the horizon. Wing kept up easily, his far greater thrust to mass ratio enabling him to dance around his larger companion as they flew higher and higher, reveling in the freedom to do what they had been created to do.

Thundercracker kept climbing but then dropped into a steep dive before climbing back up into the heights, watching Wing spiral around him as they arched and swooped through the sky in blissful abandon to what they had been created for. Far above the grounders, and especially the one who needed to not hear, he opened a short range comm with Wing.

::What can an old, war-damaged Seeker do in your city?::

::I'll have to find one to ask since you're not that old,:: Wing answered playfully before giving the question the serious answer it deserved. ::You're a great flier and great teacher to me, so you could help teach the younger fliers and probably give some of the others flight lessons. You could join the Peacekeepers or work in another aspect of the legal system. Maybe you'll wind up a reporter? It would let you use your writing skills and knowledge of the legal system.::

::Young ... of course there would be youths. You've been at peace nearly as long as we've been at war,:: Thundercracker murmured. ::What is flying like, in this cavern?::

::In some ways it's very different from flying out here,:: Wing tried to explain the experience to someone who'd probably flown almost his entire existence in the open sky, ::You won't find the kind of winds you're used to from Cybertron. There aren't any storms or lightning, which also means we don't need to worry about acid rain. Still, there's a lot of room to soar above the city and enough space to get a good burst of speed going. A lot of stunt frames like zipping around the stalactites and seeing how tight of a loop they can pull off.::

::You knew Cybertron's skies very well?.::

::Oh yes. I was in my adult frame for many centuries before the Exodus,:: Wing chirped happily. ::I was a Knight for most of it though, so I never learned much about how bad things were until the war was nearly upon us.::

::So are you older than Jazz?:: Thundercracker tried to decide whether to be amused or appalled that his creator coding really had latched on to someone older than him. Still, Wing had an innocence about him that the war had beaten out of most of the other mecha he'd known.

::I believe I'm older than everyone, though it's difficult to tell with Deadlock. His event markers aren't usually the kind of things I learned about,:: Wing answered easily.

::If you're older than me you're older than Deadlock,:: Thundercracker said after a moment's thought. ::Does it bother you that my creator coding latched on to you?::

::Not at all. Knight tradition has a concept similar to creating when a Knight-to-be is in training. A Knight will instruct an Initiate one on one for the entirety of their education. While it is similar to that of creation and creator, most Initiates are mature adults long before they come to us. It is not unknown for the Initiate to be older than the Daoshi.::

Thundercracker banked sharply, still adjusting to flying with the lighter frame and learning to trust Wing's ability to match him or get out of the way. ::That sounds like an interesting training system, and I can see why it makes our current relationship less strange to you. Have you trained an Initiate yourself?::

::Several, including the current Sovereign of Light, the leader of the Knights and by extension New Crystal City,:: Wing answered. ::Our relationship is simple compared to being the Daoshi of your leader and not getting along half the time. My Daoshi is still among the functioning as well.::

::So the fact that you left and are returning with outsiders could almost be considered a flock issue as well as a politically and legally sticky situation?:: Thundercracker asked.

::Yes, it could be. There is no way this won't be messy on every level, though legally there's a known path at least. I can get Dai to cooperate, eventually, if for no other reason than if he doesn't he'll have to be rid of me forever as well.::

::I dislike putting you in this situation, but it is our best option for survival,:: Thundercracker growled and banked again, scanning for the grounders.

::It won't be the first time I've been punished for sneaking out. Just the most serious. I'll survive it,:: Wing promised.

::You'd better,:: Thundercracker rumbled, knowing for a fact the rest of them would tear the city apart if there were even hints that Wing would be deactivated.

There was a pulse of calm-confidence across the still fledgling gestalt bond from Wing and Jazz pinged them a moment later asking if things were okay.

::Now that we've all had a chance to burn off some of our excess energy this would be a good place to let Flightplan explore without restriction,:: Thundercracker headed towards the dust plumes on the horizon. ::We're not going to be able to merge until we're planetside again.::

::Agreed.:: Prowl chimed in readily.

::Fine.:: Deadlock grumbled. It was as close to true willingness as they'd had so far from him.

As the fliers came in to where the grounders had stopped and transformed for them, Thundercracker initiated the transformation sequence and the others followed suit.

Flightplan looked around at the barren landscape so different from anything he'd ever seen in his short existence. ~We escaped?~ he asked hopefully.

~Yes, we are free,~ Thundercracker answered.

~Never a real doubt it'd work,~ Deadlock grunted.

~There...~ 

~Not a _real_ doubt.~ Jazz cut Prowl off, then mentally turned to Flightplan. ~He thinks a 0.0003% chance is 'real'.~

Prowl hissed at Jazz but didn't counter.

~What do I do now?~ Flightplan stared up at the sky, enjoying the chance to _not_ do anything for a change, but he only existed to be useful so there was something that needed done or learned.

~You could try walking around and exploring. You can move at your own pace now.~ Wing suggested, trying to encourage the youngling.

~Yes. Walk, fly low, simply practice moving as you wish. We are in much lower gravity here, so it will feel different,~ Prowl added.

Flightplan made an understanding rumble and took a careful step. It was different from what he was used to experiencing, and Flightplan paused to orientate himself before slowly increased speed as he regained his confidence. It helped that his components were now able to encourage his progress without having to remind him to hold back. Here and now all six of them wished to know his full condition and coordination. It was important information to have before their next stop.

~The lower gravity is why walking is strange?~ Flightplan asked them.

~Yes. You will become accustomed to it in time,~ Prowl assured him.

~Yeah, even zero G's is easy once you get the hang of it,~ Deadlock supplied.

~We'll wait on that until you're more confident with lower gravity. No need to throw too many changes into the mix all at once,~ Jazz added.

~Does lower gravity affect flying as well?~ Flightplan asked as his stride changed with the gradual increase in speed. Prowl had mentioned trying it, but he knew that Deadlock found flight terrifying and didn't want to cause his component too much distress.

~It is much easier, as one's effective mass is lower the lower gravity is, but thrust does not change,~ Thundercracker supplied far more as datafiles and sensations he had of the experience.

~Makes impact lighter too,~ Deadlock grunted.

Flightplan thought about what Deadlock had just said and the implications of the lower gravity. He engaged his thrusters and started a careful rise, ready to abort his plan if it became too stressful. At the height of his largest component above the ground his left leg felt twitchy, but didn't object yet. He knew that Deadlock would too. None of his limbs were shy about speaking up, though the three grounders were far more vocal in the bond than the fliers.

~Because Thundercracker is steady and quiet by nature and Wing is by training,~ Prowl supplied. ~Jazz and I are never quiet in our processors.~

~And I'm just never quiet when I have something to say,~ Deadlock grunted, trying to take his awareness of the altitude. He found a ready willingness in the others, though none of them were really sure what to do.

~I like knowing I'm not going to hurt you on accident,~ Flightplan admitted cheerfully. Assured that his components would tell him before he caused any trauma, Flightplan allowed himself to steadily rise until he was eventually three times as high off the ground. After momentarily pausing for any objections, he started north keeping as level as possible as he tried out flight in this new environment. It was much easier to maneuver here than it had been before, though it was noticeably more difficult to not drift higher. Somewhat to Thundercracker's surprise, it was Wing's processor and coding that helped keep their position level the most.

~I am a stunt jet by creation. Half a finger's width deviation in any direction can be lethal for the entire flock in a show,~ Wing supplied cheerfully.

Adding this to the long list of useful skills his components possessed, Flightplan cheerfully accepted the help. Scanning through the files Thundercracker had given him, he began practicing arching and banking his flight path. As he gained confidence he relaxed and started playing a bit more, moving up and down at gradually increasing intervals. In no way tempted to try anything like dodging imaginary attacks yet, he focused on learning to steer around large obstacles at low speed.

~You are doing quite well,~ Thundercracker nudged the encouragement into Flightplan's awareness.

~Thank you,~ He preened briefly at the praise before a warning reminded him that the flight practice was rapidly burning through his energy. Banking into a turn he put on a bit more speed and headed back towards the ship. ~Will we have more time to practice?~

~Not here?~ Prowl put the question forward in a mental shorthand that only Jazz knew well enough to translate.

~Not on this rock. Yes on another before some of us go into stasis for the trip. Agreed?~

General agreement came from the others.

~Where did you learn to think Praxian tactical shorthand?~ Prowl nudged the agent he didn't trust much more than he did the Decepticons among them most of the time.

~Partially from cross-training pre-war, partially from working with Praxians during the war and the rest I know is from when Ratchet needed me to hack you after that first bad crash you had after Praxus.~ Jazz rattled it off and felt more than heard Prowl and his tac-net accept it even if neither were thrilled.

Taking quiet note of the tension between the two Autobots, Thundercracker focused most of his attention on their flight path, helping Flightplan learn about winds and updrafts that would speed rather than hinder their movements. Feeling Deadlock's tension renew as they began their descent near the ship, Flightplan took his time landing, taking care to make the process as smooth and controlled as possible. A last moment thought put Prowl down first, smoothing the impact just that much more for Deadlock, and then they were standing separately once more.

::That is going to be weird for a long time,:: Wing shivered to ruffle his armor and settle it fully back in place.

::No kidding,:: Deadlock grunted and palmed the bay door control so they could get inside, refuel and use their vocalizers again.


	2. Shift 2: Prowl/Wing

Wing relaxed, leaning against the helmrest of the pilot's seat as Prowl put in the coordinates for Cybertron's system in the form of a dozen short segments. It felt good to teek the former Enforcer right now. With the others in stasis and the course set, Prowl was beginning to relax as coding agitation and social stresses both began to fade away.

Uncertain whether the Praxian would prefer silence or conversation right now, Wing watched Prowl for a bit before deliberately vocalizing an idle observation. "At least the shopping trips were uneventful and no rumors about missing slaves surfaced. We seem to be successfully avoiding those trying to track us down."

"Agreed. It is the primary reason that stasis for the majority is a viable option. If there was still a serious threat of attack it would not be prudent to have both three fifths and Flightplan off line," Prowl answered agreeably, his teek backing up that the conversation was welcome. "Have you given thought to what side of the war you are partial towards?"

Wing decided to be honest about the situation, "I would ultimately prefer to remain neutral but that is not possible on Cybertron given my flock and the realities of the planet. Given everything I have heard from the four of you, the Autobots are preferable to the Decepticons."

Prowl gave an understanding twitch of his wings and relaxed further. "You will certainly be less likely to have to slaughter others to survive," he said quietly, watching the pilot HUD with out really bothering to see it. "On the up side if Flightpath truly can be brought to the battlefield we might just decimate the Decepticon leadership enough to rebuild one city and hold it against those who are syci by choice."

Wing frowned at the comment about voluntary syci since he had voluntarily left his own city to join the Knights. "Sometimes there are reasons why mecha refuse to remain a part of a society. If they do not belong where they were created they should be able to find their proper place."

Prowl looked up over the helmrest. "Most didn't denounce their citizenship before they knew where they'd settle, but it's not really what I meant. Modern times, the war, changed many terms," he sighed as he easily shifted with the standard Wing was giving him. "These orns it refers to those who denounce civilization entirely, at least among Autobots."

Wing smiled apologetically, "Sorry, I should have expected more language shifts given how long I've been gone from Cybertron and everything that has happened since I left. Are there many who have done this? How would anyone survive alone on Cybertron? Or is it more of a comment directed towards the Decepticons?"

"It is, largely because that is the culture most of them display. The strong take whatever they want from anyone and anything weaker than they are. It is not civilization in any context an Autobot would acknowledge," Prowl said.

"No, that is not what anyone rational would call civilization," Wing agreed even as he tried to put that in context with Thundercracker and failed. He could see it in Deadlock, but not the Seeker. "Those who are stronger should still respect those who are weaker, and it is honorable to use that strength to protect others."

"You'll get along fabulously with Optimus. Along with his blather about freedom being the right of all sentient beings, he very much believes that the strong are expected to protect the weak and the wealthy to care for the poor," Prowl said. "I wish we were bringing your Sovereign with us. Cybertron needs him."

Wing looked down at Prowl a moment, confused by his words about his leader, "You do not agree with your leader about these things? These are things the Knights stand for and my city is based upon many of these values. Part of my duty as a Knight is to defend the civilians, and those with wealth should help those with less. No one is allowed to starve."

"Oh, I very much agree with what he _says_ he believes in. What actual policy is and its implantation isn't as respectful as it could be, much less what he says he wants," Prowl sighed in deepening frustration. "Even with all I managed to do to work around his blocks, there is only so much one can challenge the Prime during war."

"Challenging the authority of a Prime could be difficult under any situation," Wing acknowledged, remember the events leading up to the Exodus and how long it took the Knights to decide to leave Cybertron. "Is the problem more because of an inability to follow through with his claims or the challenges brought about by the war?"

Prowl went still and silent, deep in thought for several long kliks. "I believe most issues involve an inability to accept that some would use the freedom he says he wants them to have to make choices he deeply disproves of. He believes in freedom of thought, word and action only so long as he agrees with it. That is not the standard freedom must be based on for it to be actual freedom."

"Reality does not often live up to what an idealist hopes," Wing leaned forward a bit more and tentatively brushed a hand against Prowl's shoulder, testing if he was bothered by physical contact right now. Instead of rejection, Prowl leaned into in. "There needs to be a careful balancing act to freedom, or it descends into either anarchy or totalitarianism."

"A very careful balancing act. Yet in the end a just system of freedom is almost painfully simple. Harm may not be caused to another without their informed consent. Every just law eventually smelted down to that. Regulating what one does to one's self should not be allowed. There should only be regulations involving what one may do to another," Prowl said as a bubble of deep, personal anger snaked to the surface of his field to rupture against Wing's, and just as quickly it was gone.

Wing nodded and pressed his hand down on Prowl's shoulder, firming the contact. He'd known Prowl had a lot of anger in him, and he wanted the Praxian to know that he was willing to listen. "Personal freedom is important. Safety nets also need to be available so mecha don't wind up in situations like what Deadlock experienced."

"Safety nets, law and mecha willing to enforce them despite a criminal's wealth," Prowl sighed as he forced himself to relax. "It is the last one that is difficult."

"Especially when wealth and power are involved," Wing agreed as he brought his other hand to rest on Prowl's shoulder. "Corruption and coercion are especially difficult and things the Knights focused on rooting out. It helped that those who went on the Exodus chose to go knowing what kind of society we intended to build. It's easier when mecha are invested in building the structure instead of tearing it down."

"I'm surprised you found a hundred thousand to go with you," Prowl murmured as he leaned into the contact, physical and field. "There didn't seem to be that many good mecha on Cybertron."

"Peacekeepers often do not get to see civilians at their best. Those who are honest and obey the laws usually only interact with Peacekeepers when they are a victim of a crime," Wing simply disagreed with the pessimism.

"True, but we see the laws that are passed, the way those laws are implemented by those with power, our orders and how we are distributed," Prowl allowed his optics to dim and relaxed into the calm soothing of Wing's field. "We see the odds a given mech would commit a crime, or at least I do. The odds against a mech that _didn't need to steal_ to do so, and how rarely those criminals were prosecuted."

Wing sighed and kept his field steady, pleased that Prowl was finding his presence so welcoming, even if the tac-net was probably still suspicious of him as a Neutral. "It's easier to convict those who are desperate compared to those with the credits to hire powerful lawyers. The corruption caused by power is one of the hardest things to thwart. One way to do it is a strong leadership, but that is also a road to corruption if the leadership becomes corrupt."

"Not even I have come up with an answer that doesn't involve coding as strict as my own," Prowl admitted with a flare of deeply personal frustration. "Even that had limits of effectiveness given time and strong enough stressors. Just asked one of the Cons about Barricade. He began with my coding. His didn't hold."

"And coding such as that limits the freedoms we are striving to create. I'll be sure to ask them about him later," Wing said agreeably. "Unfortunately we live in an imperfect universe. All we can do is do our best and try to overcome the obstacles in our way."

"A never ending struggle," Prowl said grumpily as he stood and stretched. "So short of a violent revolution every few generations, it is not one that can be stopped."

Wing slipped his hands off Prowl's shoulders as he stood, "All we can do is work to keep things as honest as possible for as long as possible to try to hold off the need for a revolution."

"A worthy goal," Prowl agreed. "Any plans for the orn?"

"None that aren't flexible," Wing smiled agreeably, letting his genuine enjoyment slip into his field. "I enjoy your company and welcome the opportunity to spend more time with you."

* * *

Noting the time, Wing put down the datapad and headed out of his quarters. One very pleasant thing about being paired with the Praxian was their mutual interest in swords. Not having had a chance to practice with an opponent since before his capture, Wing was determined to take every opportunity available to brush up on his skills. Once he entered the practice area they'd created by moving the now extra furniture in the viewing room, Wing drew one of his two short blades and began a series of basic warm-ups. This wouldn't be the kind of sparring either of them enjoyed the most, but the close-quarters practice was something useful and it didn't require finding and stopping on an empty rock.

He became aware of Prowl the moment the mech joined him, though the Praxian remained silent and watchful until Wing tossed him the second short sword. Then as much attention as Wing could spare was kept on Prowl as he warmed up. It wasn't the first time Wing had tried to discern the origin of Prowl's training and other than being sure that the bladework training was Metallikato, he hadn't gotten any closer and he preferred to figure it out without asking since Prowl hadn't volunteered the information yet. Satisfied with his own preparation, Wing shifted from his warm ups to a ready stance as he waited for Prowl to finish.

It was only a moment before Prowl twisted in his final warm up kata to settle on light pedes facing Wing. A dipped of his doorwings and they lunged for each other. Tracking the other's blade Wing went low, slicing at Prowl's left leg as he twisted past the Praxian. He didn't make contact, but he hadn't expected to. More than anything this sparring was a test of both their skill in coming close but not actually making contact. As much as Prowl, and even Wing enjoyed a knock-down fight to exhaustion, both understood they didn't have the skills or supplies to indulge in it.

So blades only connected with each other and points were awarded for almost hitting but not actually making contact.

It was a challenge and one they both enjoyed.

Quick precise strikes barely missed as they continued to dance around each other. Wing slipped his blade up, blocking Prowl's swing at his shoulder even as the Praxian pivoted to move out of Wing's striking range. It was a dance and the electricity was building between them as tension faded in the face of enjoyment.

Spotting an opportunity, Wing feinted an attack at Prowl's right side. As Prowl stepped aside to avoid the blow Wing quickly twisted his thrust, catching Prowl's sword with his blade and forcing it exactly where he wanted it. With a simple step forward Wing had pinned Prowl's arm between chestplates. With a grin he leaned forward to claim a kiss. Prowl gave a startled almost-squeak, then melted into the contact.

"Mmm, and what spoils will go to this victor?" Prowl purred deeply, his arousal licking at Wing's plating.

"This victor would like to take you against the wall before we find a berth and you return the favor," Wing murmured before claiming another heated kiss. Prowl shivered with a flare of desire and willingly submitted to the guiding motion until his back was against solid metal. His valve cover slid open as he slid a leg up Wing's and tipped his helm back to offer his throat cabling.

Wing leaned in and lightly nipped at Prowl's cabling before latching on as his spike cover snapped open. Rubbing his extending spike against Prowl's leg, he reached down and stroked the rim of Prowl's valve, testing its slickness. He was running hot but had no desire to injure anyone on his team, but as always, Prowl was more than ready and rocked his hips against those exploring fingers with a needy sound.

As his spike slid straight into the waiting valve, Wing rumbled in pleasure and immediately started thrusting. Biting down a little harder as his own charge built, he grabbed Prowl's arm and pinned it against the wall. The molten heat that roiled out shamelessly from Prowl's field to engulf him only encouraged the dominating moves. Every trust was greeted with a ripple of the valve calipers and lining and another from them both. At some point both short swords ended up on the floor by their pedes but Wing couldn't bring himself to care with such an amorous lover against and around him.

He wanted to feel Prowl lose control even as his own charge peaked, and Wing let out a loud growl and clamped down even harder on his neck. It drew a tiny bead of energon oozing to the surface as Prowl keened in bliss and stiffened, his charge surging to his armor and into Wing. Three more hard thrusts were all it took before Wing locked his frame, pinning Prowl to the wall as the Aerial's spike filled his valve with transfluid.

Purring, Wing licked the wound and murmured, "Berth, now."

* * *

Prowl and Wing were lounging, watching the stars streak past as rainbow lines of light through the large viewing window in the lounge they did almost everything but recharge in. Both were reading, but really it was just to pass the time. They'd already read everything on board and the next stop where they could acquire more was still orns away. So when Wing put his down and looked over at Prowl it was no surprise he wanted to talk instead.

"What do you want to do after the war?"

Prowl gave it some consideration, then shrugged his doorwings. "Assuming I still function and am free to choose, I would go back to law enforcement. Despite everything, I am still a Praxian Enforcer at spark and core code."

"Would you prefer to serve an existing city as an Enforcer or attempt to rebuild Praxus?" Wing asked.

"Praxus, if it was to be rebuild. There are not enough Praxians left to justify the effort however. We are more likely to form a small enclave somewhere," Prowl sighed. "There aren't two score of Praxians left right now, and not all of them are fit for society."

"Those who are not currently fit, will they be rehabilitate or reprogrammed? If so, you could petition to act as their mentor," Wing offered, still surprised that there were far more Praxians in Aelios than there were left on Cybertron. It wasn't a city that had been well represented in the Exodus.

"It depends on what is wrong with them and who is Prime when it happens. Under Optimus, every effort will be made at rehabilitation. I'm not sure if he could bring himself to sanction execution or reformatting, no matter what is wrong," Prowl frustration began to show. "Any who are reformatted would be mine to mentor. Despite my issues, I am still the most stable law abiding Praxian left."

"And those who are not reformatted will still need someone stable enough to support them as they cope with the aftermath of war. It sounds like you will be busy mentoring for a very long time," Wing felt a small twinge of guilt at the idea of taking Prowl away from those who needed him, but the reality was that their gestalt would be safer far away from Cybertron. It was also unlikely that anyone bonded to Decepticons would be allowed anywhere near a reformatted Autobot.

"That is true, though with current conditions there will be very little official mentoring outside of rehabilitation and I couldn't help many more than I already do," Prowl sighed. "Enforcers mentor in an opposite ratio that seemed normal elsewhere. We mentored with a full unit for one or two rookies."

Wing thought about that ratio for a bit before commenting, "I can see where they would be useful, especially in an environment which encourages group cooperation. The Knights typically have a one-to-one ratio and a long-term commitment, although our mentorships are not normally with new sparks. Would it be helpful if our gestalt worked with you as mentors? We are a unit, and Thundercracker has raised creations."

"Perhaps," Prowl hummed thoughtfully. "Deadlock isn't fit to mentor anyone. Honestly, I believe it will take all four of us to teach him to be something that might pass for civilized and I don't have high hopes even for that. If he's reformatted it will still be work for all of us, just with less pressure on Thundercracker. Jazz will have his own number to deal with. He's going to be buried in agents that need serious help. Thundercracker will likely have his hands full just trying to earn a place in Seeker society again. You'll actually be one of those needing a mentor. You're civilized, far too civilized for any society we're likely to produce," he sighed and dimmed his optics. "Though yes, if the gestalt has time and energy left after their own duties, help would be most welcome."

Isolationist policy or not, Aelios definitely needed to be informed of just how catastrophic the situation back on Cybertron truly had become. "Learning to live in a much more aggressive society would be challenging, but I do have my fighting skills as a start. Based on what has been said I believe I am older than everyone else in this gestalt except possibly you. I have trained a few Initiates, and I should have the time to teach Deadlock if he will accept it."

"He's not going to have a credible choice," Prowl said bluntly. "He'll learn or he'll be in a prison cell. You and Thundercracker almost have to handle him. Jazz and I are too much an enemy at this point."

"From the sound of things we would have the most time available to teach him even if that wasn't the case. It's rather strange having two fliers teach a grounder who is overcoming a legitimate fear of heights, but we should be able to handle him," Wing agreed. "Another question, would you be willing to help raise and train a sparkling if one of us decides to create?"

Prowl stilled and looked at him with an almost blank expression for a quarter klik. "You have the desire to?"

"It is something I have always kept as a possibility, and we know from experience that Thundercracker's creator coding is active. It's logical that one of the five of us might chose to create in the future. We are a unit that can't permanently separate, and a sparkling would be around for quite a while," Wing pointed out.

"Any creation of Thundercracker would be raised as a Seeker by his trine and flock. We may have unusual visitation rights for outsiders, but not that much," Prowl said with certainty. "If you find a mate that is willing to create, I know that most of us would help, including me. It's only three centuries."

"Would you be interested in creating with another willing Praxian?" Wing asked. He concurred with Prowl's assessment on Thundercracker's sparkling and their access, even back in Aelios where the Seekers weren't quite as insular as those on Cybertron.

Doorwings jerked up sharply in shock and Prowl stared at him like a crystal deer caught in headlights.

"Is something wrong? I thought you would be interested in helping your people continue," Wing privately worried about the reaction given the city's rules on creations and contributing to the growing population. Was this one more thing that was going to be problematic for his unit?

"I ... Wing, I'm an Enforcer by creation." Prowl said the only thing his bewildered processors could come up with.

"I don't understand. I haven't had much social contact with the Enforcers back home. Could you explain why the idea of creating is causing such distress?" Wing was worried; he hadn't heard of this sort of reaction from the few Enforcers back in the city.

Prowl relaxed significantly. "Enforcers, at least Praxian Enforcers, don't have the hardware or software to create. We are all sparked. The coding is not legal for a kindled mecha to have installed and the unstable version a sparkling might inherit was considered a cruelty at best. We have a version for mentoring, but it is very different in many aspects."

Despite all of Jazz's comments about Prowl's coding Wing hadn't expected to hear something like that. If it was true then the medics could verify it and a medically validated reason not to reproduce would be accepted much more readily than simple dislike of the idea. Refocusing on Prowl, he apologized, "I'm sorry; I didn't know. I don't believe the Peacekeepers back home have such coding installed."

"Likely not. It would have been an impossible system to continue using without the ability to spark new Enforcers. The best time to break such norms and traditions is during an upheaval like the Exodus," Prowl tried to sooth him. "What would you be looking for in a mate to create with?"

Wing took the topic change gratefully, "Someone of compatible frame-type, preferably another stunt frame. It doesn't have to be a permanent relationship, but I would like to get along with them well enough to make raising a sparkling together a pleasant experience. I am willing to raise it without a partner if necessary, but either way I would prefer having a support system like our unit around."

"Good luck getting rid of Thundercracker or his trine," Prowl chuckled. "I'd advise waiting until we're sure Deadlock won't hurt it, but I expect we'd all help as needed. Are dedicated race frames similar enough to stunt fliers?"

Wing shifted a bit before answering, "They can be if it's light enough, as can some of the other less heavily armored flight frames. Actually, a race frame and a light flight frame aren't a bad combination for a stunt frame sparkling."

Prowl flicked his doorwings in understanding. "I'll make a point of getting Jazz to introduce Blurr and Mirage to you. Blurr was a top ranked dedicated racer before the war and Mirage is as lightly built as anyone I know. Both have difficult personalities, but there are few left that don't. The stubborn, cantankerous and ill-socialized seem to survive the best. Lightly built fliers are almost as rare, but they still exist among the scouts and messengers."

"It's good to know I have at least a few options for mates on Cybertron. I honestly didn't expect many options given what I've heard of how the war has gone. You admitted I'm more socialized than most so it might be a good balance," Wing thought for a moment about raising a sparkling in the world his unit described. It was a disturbing prospect. Even if the war was over it would be centuries if not millennia before it would be safe for a sparkling. "How do you feel about living outside a city? Far enough that a creation might be safe."

Prowl's doorwings jerked up and out and waved a frantic negative. "No such thing. The city core is what will be safest. As for commuting, I can't say I like the idea but I would adapt. Much of the work of a command officer, Enforcer or government, can be done by telecommuting or on the drive there and back."

"So a place where we could live in the center of things would be safest? I guess I can see why that would be if we have as many of us and your allies together as possible," Wing still wasn't happy about the concept, but he reminded himself this actually wasn't going to happen and kept his distaste out of his field.

"It's less about allies and more about law enforcement presence," Prowl sighed. "The further from the core you go the fewer resources will be available to keep the peace and keep the syci in check. Out into the wildlands, the unsettled places will be where all those who can't adapt and aren't captured will go to survive by any means they can manage. It'll be a generation grown and gone before there is any credible inter-city travel possible. There just won't be other cities for that long."

"Only having one city is something I'm familiar with from home. I hadn't thought about law enforcement when thinking about safety. I'm not used to having to take syci into account when I think of where to live," Wing tipped his head and let a bit of an apology flicker into his field for the misunderstanding.

"Not your fault. It's not even something more than a handful of mecha on Cybertron would think about. Keeping mecha safe from the lawless and criminals of circumstance is my function. Even the parts that aren't strictly my duties are something I watch because it's part of the larger picture," Prowl sighed and looked out the wide window. "My specialized upgrades are as much a curse as a blessing in many ways. I can't ignore most things even when I want to."

Wing reached out with his field to the Praxian, sending a small wave of comfort to him and smiled when he teeked not just acceptance, but thanks. "Those upgrades may be an annoyance at times, but I appreciate that they will help to keep all of us safe. If I can help to address any of the concerns as they come up let me know."

"I will," Prowl promised, then glanced at Wing. "Just how close is your social coding to a Seeker's? The need to trine, that kind of thing."

"Not very," Wing shrugged. "Several of my friends and colleagues back home have the coding, but I don't have that need for a trine. Sometimes I wish I did, but I've also seen the problems it can cause when that need isn't being well met."

"Indeed. Once the war has ended Thundercracker will need to focus much of his energy and attention on attracting one of the few untrined Actions and a Vision, which will be much more difficult," Prowl actually shuttered his offline optics at he was flooded with all the problems and probabilities involved. "Every untrined Vision anyone is aware of is an Autobot, and the untrined Actions are almost all completely insane. _Legally_ insane of the does not go to prison variety," he emphasized. "Most are Autobots as well. His prospects are not good."

Wing sighed, unhappy but understanding the situation from the Autobots' perspective, "From what he's said he wouldn't have much luck with the Decepticons given what happened with his former trinemates. I'm concerned about his future, but all I can hope is that he will find those who will accept him."

"I also hope that being in a gestalt will temper the need to trine enough for neutrals to be found and for young Seekers to hatch and grow up," Prowl admitted just how stressed the Seeker's situation made him. "His greatest asset is the fact that he is an extremely strong flier and powerful warrior by any standard. Once the shock is over we might be able to present the gestalt as an asset to potential trine and flock mates. We do represent a great deal of rank and skills that few are willing to cross. Jazz in particular is one that absolutely no one wants to be on the wrong side of. From what I have heard even Decepticons respect my ability to plan and command a complex battlefield. Deadlock is as feared as any grounder in a fight, with the possible exception of the twins together. It won't take long for your skill in the air and with blades to become well known. We may be a strange unit, but we are a formidable one."

"We've proven we are a powerful force when we work together, and we all have incentive to keep that up. You know that we will be able to overcome any obstacles. I would never have managed to escape that easily on my own," Wing shifted closer to Prowl as he spoke and was relieved when his unit mate leaned into his touch. "I can honestly say I feel much safer knowing we are in a unit together."

"It is nice to have a unit again," Prowl admitted softly as they began to settle into silence and watching the stars zoom by.

* * *

Four decaorns into Prowl and Wing's shift at the controls and a twitch of Prowl's doorwing as he went otherwise still made Wing focus past the pleasure of his spike seated in the Praxian's valve. The low, displeased growl of the pursuit engine came next, along with a huff and Prowl leaned forward to kiss him as he rose up to separate them.

"It seems we have company. Type undetermined. They've been following us for half a joor now," Prowl said as he dumped his charge into his tac-net's safety system and quickly cleaned up.

"Couldn't they just be going our way?" Wing asked as he debated whether to finish off or dump the charge and force his spike down.

"There's nothing where we are going," Prowl shook his helm. "This portion of the path leads to empty space."

"The type may be unknown, but do you have any information on the ship's size yet?" Grumbling about the interruption, Wing dumped his own charge and got to work quickly cleaning up his frame. "I'd like to know if we're going to need to online Thundercracker and Jazz prematurely. Hopefully this won't be bad enough to need Deadlock too."

"15% larger than ours, from the look it's for a significantly smaller species," Prowl answered.

Wing grunted, "Sounds like we won't need to bother Deadlock then, unless your calculations say otherwise of course. He'll be annoying when he finds out he missed a fight, but I'd rather put up with that then have him accidentally berserk out here with no close medical treatment. This isn't the best place to find out if he'll recognizes us."

"Oh he wouldn't. It's well documented that only a deep spark bond is recognized and even that's not always enough to stop one. The twins have given a great deal of information on that," Prowl said as they walked to the bridge and sat down to change course and see if the other ship would follow. "Deadlock would not be good to bring on line without a planet nearby to let him cool down on."

Wing watched the other ship shift to follow their new course and start accelerating towards them. Well, that settled whether or not they were targets. Glancing over at Prowl he asked, "What are the odds we can outrun them?"

"None. Their ship is faster. We fight," he responded grimly despite the small flare of excitement in his field.

"Let's see if we can figure out who they are. We might not need to bother Thundercracker and Jazz," Wing pulled up an image of the ship, looking for any recognizable symbols or shapes. "Do you want one of my swords?"

"If it won't hamper you too much. I am comfortable with a blaster," Prowl hedged as he turned the ship to loop around the pursuer, looking for markings.

"It might be good having a close quarters weapon just in case, and I can fight with either," Wing paused and stared at the symbols, comparing them to his past encounters. An old memory matched up, and he grinned, "I know those symbols. They're a fairly aggressive race of insectoid bipeds, but with a ship that size they should be anything we can't handle alone. Besides, Deadlock will be less grouchy if Thundercracker and Jazz miss the fun too."

Prowl actually chuckled lightly. "A sword would be welcome then, and you are right about Deadlock. He'll just hope he gets some action on his turns. Do they prefer blasters, hand weapons or natural?"

"They carry blasters but most prefer natural weapons, claws and stings primarily with a few pincers for variety. The orange-shelled ones have an acidic spray from their mouths we'll prefer to avoid, but it isn't going to immediately melt armor or anything like that if it hits you," Wing handed the sword over to Prowl as he tried to remember all the details from his last encounter with this rather aggressive race that while annoying weren't particularly dangerous in the numbers the other ship represented.

Prowl nodded his understanding and they remained at the controls to play at avoiding the other ship until there was a warning shot along their flank and a hail across the main channels used in this sector. It was a simple message: shut down the engines or have them shot out. With only a glance between them the engines were shut down.

"It'll be interesting to see how they react to seeing Cybertronians. We don't have the best galactic reputation, but it tended to work in my favor in situations like this in the past," Wing observed as the ship continued towards them. Given that boarding was now inevitable, the pair headed out of the bridge to greet the intruders.

"The reputation was well earned given their lifespans. Most organics hadn't yet evolved when our war began," Prowl said casually as he flicked and twirled the blade to deal with the anticipatory energy building in him. "Those that did haven't known us as better than pirates and maurauders for hundreds if not thousands of generations."

"Well, these won't survive to give a different report, and it will do some good clearing them from the space lanes," Even if he didn't normally feel the pull for combat the others in the gestalt did, Wing couldn't help reacting to Prowl's anticipation. It would be interesting facing opponents a third his height, and he couldn't help but picture Flightplan fighting normal Cybertronians.

Prowl nodded with a building, violent grin that better suited Deadlock or Jazz as he tested his weapon for balance by habit rather than need before they walked to the entry where the pirates were preparing to board.

A rumble through the decking and the sound of scraping metal signaled that the first boarding party would soon come pouring in through. Reminding himself that there were three members of his unit offline up on the upper deck, Wing fell into position beside Prowl and prepared to annihilate the oncoming threat. The door slid open and Prowl lunged forward, slashing the pair in front in half before bringing his fist down to smash a third into a pile of chitin and internal goo. The gestalt bond and his field was alive with anticipation and enjoyment that was definitely better suited to Deadlock in Wing's opinion.

It wasn't the best thing for the two to have in common, but at least it was a small starting point. Following Prowl into the melee, Wing skewered another insectoid as it skittered across the ceiling above them. Yanking the corpse off his blade, he threw it over the advancing bugs towards the orange one he'd spotted clinging to a wall. He could already see the insectoids hesitating to come through the small opening they had to funnel through to board.

"They're going to weapons," Prowl groused in Cybertronian when all but the orange ones scurried into their ship. He handed Wing's sword back to him and pulled a heavy blaster from subspace.

The insectoids that remained stayed back, inside their ship where it was difficult for the mechs to reach and began spitting at them.

Wing sheathed both swords and reluctantly pulled out the blaster Jazz had insisted he carry; his own skills were still dubious at best but he shouldn't accidentally hit Prowl since he was next to him. He couldn't avoid all of the spray and some hit his arm, causing the white paint to emit a foul odor as it started to blister. Shooting back, Wing missed his initial target but shot the leg of the one beside it causing it to topple forward. The insectoid made a series of loud clicks before spitting a small stream of acid at their feet.

Prowl's aim was even more deadly than he'd displayed before, picking off the entire visible enemy in under half a klik.

"There'll be more soon," Wing to a moment in the lull to look at his own blaster. He'd actually shot a living target, even if he was under no illusions that he'd been the one that killed it. Pushing aside his own mixed feelings, he focused on the tunnel and any movement within.

Prowl gave him a lingering look. "Use your swords and guard the central hall. I'll handle the shooting. First, go get the heavy riffle."

Wing immediately holstered the blaster and ran for the hidden compartment where they stashed the spare weapons. He wasn't sure why Prowl wanted such a powerful weapon against these small targets, but the tactician obviously had a plan that Wing would follow without hesitation. Prowl's plans had more than earned his trust at this point. He could hear blaster fire as he turned the corner and opened the panel to grab the large weapon and darted back. Just around the corner he saw Prowl with an open hand extended towards him, though the mech was still facing the enemy and firing.

Dodging a few blaster shots, Wing handed the rifle over to Prowl, drew his swords and positioned himself as far out of the line of fire as possible while still able to attack anything that managed to survive Prowl's deadly aim.

Soon, Wing spotted a flash of green as a large insectoid half again as big as the others scuttled into view. Acting as a living shield for the insectoids behind it, it steadily advanced on all six legs. The insectoids behind it continued firing at them with blasters and sprays of acid.

Prowl took a step back and switched to the riffle in a smooth move. The instant it was against his shoulder he fired. The blast blew a hole in the large insectoid, spattering organic goo everywhere. Unfortunately the living shield had done its job and several of the insectoids made it into the corridor with more creeping forward to use the corpse as cover as Prowl continued to fire. The rifle's cycle time was relatively slow, but the damage it did to the interior walls of the alien craft was visible even to Wing. Two more shots at most and the other craft would have a hull breach from one side to the other.

Wing slashed at the closest insectoid as it charged him, driving a blade into a gap in the chitin. Yanking the sword out and thrusting it into a second that was trying to claw his leg, he took a moment to kick a third into a wall. It was messy but little worse than the Cybertronians he'd killed defending the Citadel on Cybertron. They were trying to kill him and his kin, three of which couldn't defend themselves.

A shift in sound marked Prowl changing weapons to the blaster, but at this stage he was punching and kicking as much as he was shooting.

Spotting movement on the wall beside him, Wing slammed back crushing two insectoids trying to sneak past him. He took another splatter of acid across his plating as one of the orange ones spat at him, and he returned the favor by removing its head with a single swipe before taking out another orange one as it took aim at Prowl.

Now that they had successfully entered the ship the insectoids swarmed out of the breach. Another large green one made its way into the breach, shielding more of its broodmates with its bulk.

This time the sound of the heavy riffle going off came with a sound Wing was far more familiar with than he cared to be: the rending of strong metal.

"Brace!" Prowl snarled without looking back as he lunged forward to close the hatch. 

It was only a few spark pulses later that Wing had the area around him cleared of live insectoids and he spared a look for his teammate. The Praxian was a mess as he crushed the last living thing near him and swept nearly feral optics for anything moving. That look from another mech caused Wing to freeze, even his automated systems going as still as possible until Prowl's expression steadied and the glow of his optics dimmed to normal levels.

"Definitely easier to kill than Insecticons but just as messy," Wing said once Prowl had settled back down. Ignoring his disgust at the organic mess covering everything Wing started checking his teammate for damage, his own still blistering paint ignored for the moment. A thorough scrub and some mutual touch-ups should take care of that problem soon enough. He was relieved when Prowl's damage didn't look any worse than his own, and grateful that the critical optics looking him over were those of a sane teammate.

"Let's get this acid neutralized, then clean up this mess, then each other," Prowl suggested.

"Sounds good," Wing agreed. "This is the part the others won't be sorry they missed."

* * *

Wing waited patiently by the berth while Thundercracker finished booting, knowing Prowl was doing something similar with Jazz. It hadn't been a hard choice; both of them knew the Decepticon was used to Wing's presence as he came out of recharge. Once he was certain Thundercracker was aware, Wing asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been in stasis for a metacycle," The Seeker groused as he sat up and looked around, not at all surprised that Jazz looked more aware than he was. "All status is green," he added for the creation than was older than he was. "Did anything interesting happen?"

"Watched some star fields pass by, practiced sparring, monitored course settings, practiced more sparring, fought some organic pirates, nothing special," Wing shrugged cheerfully.

"Good. No hint that we're on anyone's radar." He glanced over at Prowl talking to Jazz. "Did he treat you well?"

"Yes, everything went well. We talked a lot and cleared up some potential issues our different backgrounds could have caused down the road," Wing moved closer to Thundercracker enjoying the comfort of the Seeker's familiar field. It was pleasant and welcoming, and even though it was still a bit fuzzy it was easy to teek that the Seeker was pleased to have him there.

Thundercracker's wings twitched in acceptance and Wing turned to the pair of grounders and asked, "Has he finished filling you in on what happened while you were in stasis?"

"Getting there," Jazz chirped with a fake-innocent grin that spoke of being briefed by Prowl far too many times.

"If I did not give you the full rundown you'd complain I didn't do my job," Prowl snipped at him. Even so, there wasn't nearly the heat that his voice usually held.

"Keep going, Prowler," Jazz grinned at him, them flinched at something unseen. "Sorry," he mumbled quietly.

Making a mental note that Prowl really didn't seem to like nicknames, Wing leaned back against Thundercracker and for a few kliks just soaked in the sound of the others talking. It had been pleasant spending time getting to know Prowl better, but if he ignored the berth holding Deadlock's stasis locked form he could pretend they were all up and functional like normal. Even though he didn't like the distrust inherent behind not having two members of the same faction online at once, he was glad Jazz and Thundercracker had insisted at least two of them be online for the majority of the trip; that much time alone wouldn't have been good for his stability.

After a bit of cuddling Thundercracker shifted against him. "This is pleasant, but I could use some energon."

"Sure," Wing grinned at him and scooted off the berth. The three of them followed him out of the double-sized berthroom and into the main viewing area where a small tray with energon waited for them. 

Thundercracker took note of the area obviously cleared for sparring and settled straddling one of the chairs off to the side. He watched Wing pick up the tray and offer it to each of member of the flock. It was such a civilized action and one with connotations that varied wildly by city and frametype. Wing's teek spoke of a flock Order to the Seeker, the provider demonstrating to long-absent members that he could still provide. Thundercracker thought about it for a nanoklik before accepting the cube with a small wing dip. As much as his coding wanted to treat Wing as his creation, he had to admit the Aerial was one of the oldest of the flock and had proven his ability to lead. He was the only one with social and political connections to their potential new home, and Wing was risking a great deal bringing Decepticons and Autobots to Aelios. It also grated less on his coding to follow an Aerial than it did a grounder.

Prowl's reaction indicated he recognized the intent and accepted it, though not whether he wanted to challenge it or not. For now, though, the Praxian was making an open display of accepting Wing's leadership to Wing and Thundercracker. Whether Jazz understood was impossible to tell.

Glancing over at Prowl, Thundercracker asked, "Wing mentioned organic pirates. I'm assuming they were no trouble given you didn't wake us from stasis."

Wing chuckled, "Just a bunch of organic wannabe Insecticons. They weren't much of a threat honestly."

"The only damage was to our finishes, though part of their boarding ramp is still attached to the ship's door," Prowl added with a hint of good humor before sipping the energon he had. "It was honestly a relief to see some action and have company that trusted me to fight well."

"Why would I think otherwise?" Wing asked as took a sip from his own cube. "You've proven skilled when we sparred with sword and in unarmed combat, and you're certainly better than me with a blaster."

"Most Decepticons back on Cybertron have forgotten or do not know that Prowl as an Enforcer and see him as a bureaucrat," Thundercracker offered as an explanation.

"Autobots are worse," Prowl said with a simple shrug of his doorwings. "Only a handful have seen me in action."

"Those that have will never forget," Jazz actually shivered. "You're scary when you're out for sparks."

"I'm efficient," Prowl glanced at him. "I expected you to have forgotten."

"The way you move? Never," Jazz shook his head.

"After having seen you spar with the others I would not make the mistake of underestimating you. Of course, I have Martial training as well and already expected at least some competency from you in combat," Thundercracker conceded.

The tiny flutter of Prowl's doorwings mixed thanks, surprise and embarrassment, all putting Prowl in a better mood.

"One thing I am certain of is that it will be difficult for us to be outmatched in combat, especially if we continue to work together," Wing finished off his cube and stared at the empty container. "I don't know about anyone else, but I could use something a bit more exciting right now. It's been a long time since I've had a chance to have high grade. Anyone else want some?"

"Always," Jazz grinned and perked up considerably.

"Yes," Thundercracker was much more sedate but no less excited by the idea.

"Come on Prowl, it's not like there's anyone to see that doesn't know you far worse than overcharged," Jazz pressed. He earned a death-glare but Prowl nodded warily.

As Wing handed out the cubes, carefully sorted by type, Jazz looked around. "Since we aren't going to risk an overcharged berserker, why don't we get to know each other better in a fun way?"

Prowl's wary look went to a warning glare.

"Seriously Prowl, it's not like there's anything more intimate than being Flightplan," Jazz tried to get him on board.

"It's much more intimate than being in a trine," Thundercracker admitted. "As we continue to merge it will be difficult to keep any secrets. We might as well admit them now."

"It does not require becoming overcharged," Prowl objected despite the high grade in his hands.

"Okay, okay, special rules," Jazz held up his hands. "Prowl only _has_ to drink a finger's with if he refuses both truth and dare. The rest of us take a drink after every response we give."

"Sounds fair since someone should stay a bit sober in case of trouble," Wing said cheerfully raising his cube. "I'll get started. Jazz, truth or dare?"

"Since the whole point of this is to get to know each other, truth," Jazz grinned at him.

Wing chuckled, "Okay, we'll start with something completely relevant and important. What's your favorite interfacing position?"

"Ohh, that's a hard one," Jazz grinned back and really had to think. "Okay, for this vorn, it's definitely on top, riding a spike so I can give my lover a show."

Even Prowl chuckled, if very softly.

"That's good to know," Wing laughed as Jazz took a drink. "You're turn to ask someone."

Jazz took a gulp, though he held it in his mouth to savor the treat before slowly swallowing the liquid warmth. "Okay, so Thundercracker, is this going to be a self-service only tour?"

Thundercracker looked at him for a long moment before sighing, "Probably. I prefer partners with wings and I'm not that desperate." He took a long drink for the cube and swallowed it immediately, feeling it hit his tanks hard.

Jazz nodded acceptance. "Then I won't be trying."

Thundercracker dipped his wings slightly at the acceptance, hiding how grateful he actually was, before turning to Prowl and decided to start with something innocuous that the tac-net most likely wouldn't object to a Decepticon asking, "You're next, Prowl. What's your favorite treat?"

"Mmm, there was a place called Warm Waves back when I was still patrol. They made the best sparkleberry hand pies," Prowl's voice held a distinctly nostalgic tone.

"Those sound good. I love anything sweet," Wing offered and then took a small sip since he'd offered up information on himself.

"You, Jazz and most survivors, it seems," Prowl's expression lost some of its softness from pleasant memories.

"So why'd you shift to bitter and sour?" Jazz asked, unable to stop his curiosity. 

Prowl gave him a glance as he decided whether or not to be strict, then answered. "It was easy to get."

"Well, we have plenty of sweet additives right now, and we'll have to make sure to get you sweet treats whenever possible," Wing said playfully trying to lighten things back up. Thinking about all the sweet shops he knew back on Aelios he knew he'd have to find Prowl some hand pies when they got there. They might even have sparkleberry. A lot of those ingredients survived or had been recreated over the long vorns of the search and settlement.

"True. I don't really think of it anymore," Prowl leaned back in his favored chair. "Sweets are a thing in the past. Wing. Why did you chose to be a Knight?"

Wing thought for a moment about that long ago choice. "Once I found out what a Knight was it was all I wanted to be. It gave me stability and taught me self discipline. Protecting others, following the code, it is a difficult life but I wouldn't be who I am if I hadn't made that decision."

Prowl nodded acceptance of the logic. "Such is true of many choices."

Wing decided to mix things up a bit rather than continuing the circle and asking Jazz. Thundercracker would never ask any interfacing questions since he didn't think about anyone on board that way. Cheerfully taking another drink, Wing said, "Back at you, Prowl. What's your favorite interfacing position?"

There was a noticeable pause as Prowl debated that. "Overall or where I am personally involved?"

"This time let's go with personally involved," Wing said after a bit of reflection.

"Back to chest, wing to wing," Prowl said so much to Thundercracker in that single glyph. The lack of a third, the low importance of it, and yet the first time with Jazz when Prowl had just arrived said it wasn't a complete answer either.

"That can be fun," Wing agreed as he filed the information away for later when he and Jazz propositioned Prowl.

"Indeed," Prowl actually purred softly. "Thundercracker. How did you end up with Starscream?"

"Skywarp and I ran into him as an untrined Vision after Vos fell, and the three of us reached an understanding. We covered for him and later supported him as Air Commander, and he agreed to carry our sparklings after the war was over," Thundercracker sighed and took a long drink.

It was impossible to miss how badly Prowl wanted to follow up, but he held his vocalizer and nodded acceptance.

Thundercracker took a brief moment to savor the flavor before turning to Jazz. "Jazz, favorite music style, and, yes, you have to pick one."

It earned a laugh from the grounder and a grin from Wing. Even Prowl was openly amused.

"Dance club," Jazz finally responded after playing up his squirming over the choice. "Okay Wing, what's your favorite down time activity other than 'facing."

"Stunt flying and dancing, on the ground or in the sky both have their good points. Really anything that lets me move," Wing nodded to Jazz and took another drink. Realizing he'd just finished his cube he reached over to grab another.

"I so know the feeling," Jazz grinned at him.

"I believe the need to get outside and _move_ is something all five of us in common," Prowl said as Wing settled down.

"Well, it's a start," Wing added cheerfully as he looked around at the others. Deciding to follow up on his previous question, he asked, "Prowl, do you have a preference for pairs or trios when interfacing?"

"A trio for most things. Things I prefer to only be with one are those that I am doing for my companion's needs rather than my own," Prowl answered smoothly. "What of you Wing? One lover or multiple at a time?"

"Ohh..." Wing pretended to think for a bit before answering, "One can be fun since everyone's attention is focused, but two means more to share. Three or more gets a bit challenging to make certain everyone is satisfied and feels included. I'd have to say two unless it's someone special."

Prowl dipped his doorwings in understanding.

Taking a moment to actually savor the flavor before swallowing another mouthful of high grade, Wing turned to Thundercracker. "Thundercracker, favorite genre to read?"

Wide wings quivered fractionally in embarrassment, but he answered. "Satire and biographies."

Wing just smiled encouragingly and nodded, pleased that Thundercracker was offering up something personal.

"Satires can be a fun read," Jazz agreed. "There were some good ones before the war got worse."

"There were. Some good ones were even written well into war, though they never wrote under their real designation. Satire and Megatron are not a well received combination," Thundercracker chuckled, a sound somewhere between honest amusement and sadness. "Not that the Senate or Sentinel received it well either, but it was a lot easier to hide from them."

"Particularly in cities that didn't much care if they were upset. I know several lived with very little fear in Vos, Praxus, Kaon and even Tiger Pax," Prowl agreed.

"Tiger Pax? Didn't it survive on government contracts?" Jazz perked up. It was useless intel, but it was interesting none the less.

"To an extent, yes, but they were also the only place many of their products could be produced, or produced at a reasonable cost," Prowl nodded. "In the end, the shannix was more powerful than even the Prime's displeasure in most cases. A given company might suffer, but not the city."

"Money usually won out in the long run," Thundercracker agreed. "It made it difficult on those who didn't have it. Still, a good satire could injure some of the most powerful in the only place possible, their pride."

"Words can be powerful weapons when wielded properly," Wing said quietly.

"Although a blaster can easily silence the careless writer," Jazz added.

Thundercracker turned to Jazz, "Jazz, do you actually enjoy flight?"

"Mmm, yes," he purred. "I got past the fear phase a long time ago, back with gymnastics and climbing training. Now it's new and useful and I groove on the new and useful. So, Thundercracker, are you as growly as Prowl about nicknames?"

Thundercracker thought back to his former trinemates and sighed, "I don't prefer being called by them but getting Skywarp not to use nicknames was an exercise in futility. They are something I have been forced to learn to tolerate."

"I know your pain," Prowl groaned.

Thundercracker flicked his wings in sympathy. "Prowl, what do you read for enjoyment?"

"Almost anything in non-fiction," the Praxian answered smoothly. "Fiction is too difficult to process to be enjoyable."

Thundercracker nodded, filing that bit of information away. Thinking of some of Starscream's reading preferences, he asked, "We probably read many of the same biographies then. Or did you prefer technical papers?"

"In general the lives and processing trees of others, mecha of all kinds, were often the most interesting. That it correlated directly to my function as an Enforcer and then a tactician certainly played a part," Prowl explained more fully.

"Okay, I get why it's useful for a tactician, but what good is it for a cop?" Jazz frowned.

"It is not just those who were completely law abiding and without links to criminal society that had biographies written," Prowl smiled faintly. "Many notorious criminals had them, as did those who dealt with criminals. It helped in understanding a processor set so diametrically opposed to my own. Since dealing with criminals was the bulk of my duties for much of my career, understanding now they think was very useful."

"You have devoted most of your existence to improving your function for the betterment of others," Thundercracker observed quietly.

"I am a sparked Praxian Enforcer," Prowl inclined his helm, then focused on Jazz. "What were you, before you were ISO?"

Jazz sighed, "Not so different from Deadlock originally. I was on the streets trying to survive. Of course it was a different city and I attracted a different type of attention."

"Or not so different, given what I know of ISO and Deadlock's employers," Prowl hummed a thoughtful request. 

"Nah, mine wasn't quite like his. They spent some time figuring out what I'd be best at, and it turned out pretty well for me," Jazz calmly evaded the question.

Prowl tipped a doorwing in acceptance and to signal Jazz to continue the game.

Jazz picked up another cube to replace his current empty one and said, "Wing, what did you do before the Exodus?"

"Same thing I did during and after it," the now heavy-framed stunt jet grinned at him. "I've been a Knight of Light since I was only a few vorns old. Now on what you want to know. I was created for a stunt clan. Despite my love of it, I didn't handle their structure well and was eventually kicked out before I ever flew in a show. I was one of the lucky ones," he murmured with a sip of high grade. "I found a place that would take me in."

"Very lucky indeed," Jazz said. "You were fortunate to find some place safe so quickly."

"Yep," Wing agreed cheerfully, "although I may have some disagreements with of the other Knights, it has been a good home for me. Alright, Jazz, following up on a previous question. You've said you don't mind heights anymore. So, you ever interface in flight?"

"Once, before the war. It's a rush, but not really my kink," Jazz answered, then focused on Thundercracker. "How many Seekers do you like in a pile?"

"Before the war my first trine were usually in a pile of at least six of us, sometimes as many as a dozen. It depended on shifts and deployments and case loads. Half the flock were Air Martials, the other half were Military. It made for lonely nights and overcrowded ones," Thundercracker said after a thought of fond past vorns with his old flock. "My last trine kept our rest time mostly to ourselves when we could. Seeker piles among the Decepticons were tricky given the politics involved and the necessity of concealing Starscream's true nature. Sharing recharge time with Wing has been a comfort after so long alone."

"Glad I can help," Wing smiled brightly, genuinely pleased that such a simple thing on his part could be helpful.

"Indeed. Squad recharge piles are one of the things I miss most," Prowl smiled with the same distant fondness Thundercracker was showing.

"Mmm, Prowl, how were squads put together in Praxus?" Thundercracker asked, startling the Enforcer a bit.

"Most are sparked a unit and remained so for their carriers. Squad leaders were sparked to their rank. I outlived several squads as I rose through the ranks," Prowl gave the briefest explanation he could.

Thundercracker tipped his wings thoughtfully, "Most of our Air Martials and military came from the same flocks and tended to stay together after training with many of them choosing trinemates from the same group. It's not completely similar to your sparked units but some of the dynamics involved would be similar."

"The difference between a sparked force and a voluntary one," Prowl agreed, then hummed thoughtfully as he regarded the three mechs who were clearly overcharged but not incoherent yet. "Jazz, have you ever been in love?"

Jazz was halfway tempted to take a dare but decided to answer honestly, "What's your definition of in love? In love with a song? Definitely. In love as in looking at spark bonding? Never."

"In love, hoping to spend your existence with them. With or without a bond," Prowl elaborated. 

"I've had some I enjoyed spending time, and a few I felt comfortable around enough to relax and enjoy myself. But that kind of love, nope, never happened," Jazz took a long drink. "Wing, how close is your Knight code to that of any Enforcer or Air Martial?"

Wing leaned back and sipped his energon while he thought about that.

"It's more strict in some ways, less strict in others, but from what I've gathered from Thundercracker and Prowl, I would say it is comparable, if you consider them comparable to each other," he rambled a bit.

"Anything stand out as different?" Thundercracker asked out of turn.

"The Great Swords for one. They help keep us from straying from the path and act to guide us when we falter," Wing thought to Challenger of the Ways still strapped to his back. The Great Sword seemed to approve of his actions so far with his new unit.

"How do they do that?" Prowl leaned forward with the fixation of a turbohawk on its prey.

"They give us their approval or notify us of their displeasure," Wing paused a moment before elaborating. Normally he wouldn't talk about this, but his gestalt mates should know more about his Great Sword, especially given what might happen when they arrived. It wasn't as if they wouldn't know after a few more merges. "Challenger of the Ways has approved of my actions so far, and I trust that it will keep me following the true path."

"It sounds a bit like my tac-net's AI," Prowl asked more than said.

"Mmm, to a point. The AI seems to like glyphs, odds and logic. It talks to you directly, and often. Great Swords prefer emotions and usually only express them when their bearer is questioning a choice or has made a poor one," Wing tried to explain a difference that was both profound and miniscule.

"How do they correct you about a poor choice if they do not speak to you?" Thundercracker was curious about the Knights and was interested in learning more about Wing's chosen path. He also wanted to know more about these mysterious Great Swords and the hold it had on his youngling.

Wing had to think about it for a long klik before he tried again. "It's a lot like teeking," he reached out with his field and pressed his good mood into it. "Like that. You know what I'm feeling without talking to me. It's just with Great Swords, that teek is as much as you'll ever get. If it's upset with you, you know about it. Part of a young Knight's training is in how to read and understand those signals. For as long as I've been with Challenger of Ways I don't need to think about it. It knows and I know."

"Odd, but you appear to appreciate its guidance," Thundercracker decided leaned back, remembering that this was a game, not an interrogation. And the question had been more than answered.

"You get used to its presence, and it is a comfort having someone to help keep you in on the path," Wing said before shifting to look over at Jazz, who'd just listened to the discussion. "Jazz, which of the four of us is the most aesthetically appealing to you?"

"You," he grinned back. "I like the exotic and different, and even with the extra armor you've got a build that hasn't really been seen in thousands of vorns." He glanced at Prowl as the Praxian opened his mouth. "Yes, I know there are a handful left. Most of them answered to me before this little adventure. If I didn't see Praxians every orn I'd call you exotic and rare too."

Wing perked up, "We are both that rare now? I guess that means I'll get a lot of attention on Cybertron."

"From those who like the new and unusual," Prowl flicked his doorwings in agreement. "I'm sure every Autobot with wings will want your designation."

Thundercracker rumbled slightly in a bit of displeasure at the idea of his youngling attracting that much attention.

"Everyone must fly the nest eventually. It doesn't mean it's any less home," Wing tried to sooth him.

"I know, but my coding is having problems accepting it," Thundercracker grumbled but sent a pulse of affection in his field towards Wing. "Part of it is how recently it latched on to you. It'll settle soon enough."

"Been there, dealt with it," Wing trilled back, earning a surprised look. "Training a new Knight is even more intense than raising a creation, and I've trained several Knights. A lot of the coding reactions are the same."

"I appreciate your patience. With the addition of this gestalt code we're all trying to get our coding under control," Thundercracker vocally acknowledged that the coding was changing his reaction to the grounders in their flock. The nods and doorwing flutter acknowledged back that he spoke the truth for the former Autobots as well.

Jazz turned to Prowl with a grin, "Who do you find the most physically attractive?"

There was a brief pause, and Prowl took a long drink of his high grade. "Thundercraker."

The Seeker couldn't help staring at Prowl since that wasn't what he'd expected to hear given how much the Praxian seemed to hate Seekers for what happened to Praxus.

"Saywhat?" Jazz stared too, only halfway noticing that of them all, only Wing seemed to think it was reasonable.

"Not even the war can change the cultural standards for those intent to hold onto them. It took more energy to strip what Praxians have long found attractive than it was worth," Prowl said quietly and seemed to be contemplating another drink. "It wasn't as if it was ever going to affect my responses."

"I can see that," Thundercracker twitched his wings in understanding. "Only for you it's hardcoded, isn't it? What I trained to be able to look past, you came on line with."

"Yes," Prowl dipped his doorwings in agreement. "It would never due to have law enforcement prejudiced based on attractiveness."

"That's something most city's Enforcers had in common whether they were sparked or not," Thundercracker agreed. "Those that didn't tended to be the most corrupt."

"And the most frustrating to deal with. Such low standards," Prowl huffed despite how relaxing it was on a core level to finally talk shop with someone who understood what standards really meant. "What was the highest profile case you worked on as an Air Martial?"

Thundercracker rumbled remembering some of his past cases before answering, "Highest profile in Vos would have been a serial fledgling poisoner. She offlined at least four before we traced back to her. I'm still not convinced she didn't have other victims we never learned about."

"Almost a given," Prowl shuddered

"That _happened_?" Wing blanched.

Even Jazz's field briefly wavered before he steadied. "More often than either of them likely knows."

"Regretfully so," Prowl sighed and took another sip of energon. "I believe I recall when that one made it into the inter-city reports. I was sure I knew your designation before the war. I never did spend the energy to work out where."

"You didn't?" Jazz looked over with surprise.

"Once I knew he had been an Air Martial I assumed we crossed paths professionally," Prowl shrugged a doorwing. "We both had long and distinguished careers in law enforcement before our cities fell."

Thundercracker finished off his high grade and grabbed another cube, taking another drink. Even with all the horrors the war had produced that particular killer still disturbed him to some degree. "Prowl, same question back at you. What was one of your highest profile cases?"

"I believe that would be the Drifter case," Prowl answered, and all three focused on Thundercracker as the Seeker's wings snapped up.

"You were there, for the takedown?" Thundercracker tried to pull up memories that simply didn't exist anymore.

"Yes. A junior detective then. I only joined the task force because the first one in Praxus landed on my desk. That was before we knew it connected to anything," Prowl nodded to the other grounder.

"It was a pleasure taking him out," Jazz agreed with a tip of his head to Prowl.

"From what I recall that was one killer everyone was pleased to see stopped," Thundercracker had lost many of the details to time and war, but any killer that hit almost every city was inevitably going to be very high profile. "It would have been nice to have him extradited to Vos for execution, but Iacon did make a proper example of him."

"Agreed," Prowl actually purred. "As rarely as I approve of executions, that one was a case I could find no fault with it in. I still regret not seeing him executed by Praxian acid given his penchant for using it, but I can barely call that a complaint. Wing. Have you ever see or dealt with such crimes?"

"Nothing like any of that," Wing gave a full frame shutter. "Those who came on the Exodus were screened for that sort of thing. I've seen overcharged fights and some heat of passion murders, but deliberate depravity has been thankfully missing from Aelios."

"From the Citadel on Cybertron too, I'd wager," Jazz poked.

"Not as completely up front, but yes. Most of the real violence I knew was raiders and a Decepticon assault as we launched," Wing nodded.

"That'd be _so_ weird. A world that peaceful," Jazz's tone was a mix of awe and a fundamental lack of connection.

"I'd be like when you vacationed in Praxus," Prowl suggested.

"Mmm, true. I'm just used to the peace ending," Jazz shrugged.

"Peace doesn't always have to end," Wing said, knowing the others wouldn't really believe that given their histories. "Jazz, what's the strangest surprise kink you've gotten from a lover? Something you never expected from the mech in question. You don't have to give designations if you don't want to."

"Oh, mech, no one here would know the designations anyway," Jazz laughed. "Last time I was surprised was a _long_ time ago. I'll skip the freaky ones too."

"Translation: nothing that's a crime or otherwise distressing for the LEOs in the room," Prowl spoke up with the first signs of being overcharged. "We really do not need me to start a second cube."

"Some orn I'll get that story out of you," Jazz teased. "But the kink that surprised me the most. I think that had to be the one high ranking ISO mech, back when I was first coming in. He had this kink for sparkplay that still seems weird. Assassin loving spark play so much they completely forget they have other options if it isn't pointed out. He was casual with his spark like we're casual with sticky."

"Praxian?" Prowl asked curiously.

"No, why?" Jazz shifted focus.

"It's a common enough trait among Enforcers," Prowl just shrugged.

"Ah, no. Definitely not a former Enforcer, Praxian or otherwise," Jazz chuckled. "So, Prowl, have you ever done it in the air?" Jazz asked despite the difficulty he had picturing it. That difficulty both magnified and dissipated with the almost dreamy expression that took Prowl's features for a moment.

"That's a yes," Wing snickered.

"Long before the war, back when Seekers often visited or even lived in Praxus," Prowl didn't completely reign in his reaction. "Though most often it was a sierki, not a Seeker."

"Now that's a term I haven't heard outside of Seeker barracks," Jazz hummed, his gaze shifting between the other three to see who would answer.

"Seeker kin. A flier with Seeker heritage that is clearly not a Seeker," Prowl answered. "Mostly Combat Aerials."

"What about fliers that don't look like they're any part Seeker?" Jazz prodded at this fascinating bit of culture that was absolutely forbidden on the Autobot side and too well understood for a newbie to sort out among the Seekers.

"That's just as complicated as Seekers are," Wing chuckled, though there was darkness in his tone. "Officially, we're all Aerials. It means anything that's intended to fly in alt mode. Shuttles and Rotors are the only widely acknowledged sub-types by grounders in my experience."

"The only change is that Seekers are Decepticon fliers and Aerials are Autobot and Neutral," Prowl spoke up.

Wing nodded acceptance up the update. "Within flier society there are as many frametypes, sub-cultures and differences as grounders had in grounder society. Just like I'm sure no grounder would mistake just any doorwinged mech as Praxian, no flier would mistake me for anything other than an Ankmorian Light Jet. Even now most would likely guess I used to be one and something happened."

"It's true, though like Prowl, I have a far better frametype education than most," Thundercracker agreed. "Though you'd never now it now, there were dozens of Seeker frame classes."

"Not that different to how many differences there are between various car alts," Prowl offered an example for Jazz. "I've heard you call in runners and break-ins. You are unusually accurate."

"Part of my job," Jazz nodded as he adapted this information into his awareness. On a level he'd long known it. It just never seemed to matter. Now though, between the two very different flight frames on this team, Prowl's fluency in the terms and differences and a destination where it was likely to matter a lot, it was worth committing to memory at better resolution.

"Wing, who leads the Knights of Light?" Prowl asked almost innocently, except that he never asked an innocent question.

"Dai Atlas is the Sovereign of Light," Wing answered, at least partially aware of his reputation in the outside world from his time before the Knights.

Thundercracker sputtered, "Dai Atlas? He is still online?" They were going to go to the city and plead Wing's case in front of Dai Atlas? It was going to be even more difficult than he'd originally thought to protect Wing.

"Yes. He's not that tough. I trained him as a Knight," Wing giggled. "It was weird for a while, but Primus was looking out for us. He's the only one who had the experience to arrange and manage such a large movement of mecha on such a long journey."

"He would certainly have those capabilities," Prowl agreed.

"If he's not that tough who is?" Thundercracker muttered almost to himself as he took a long drink and finished off his cube.

"I trained him," Wing shrugged. "My Daoshi, my teacher, still functions. She got the really hard cases."

"If he's the youngest Knight of at least three generations, why is he in charge so long after you settled?" Prowl asked.

"Skill, politics, tradition. He is a fine leader, and it takes a great deal more than the occasional roaring fight to dislodge the Sovereign once he is elected," Wing glossed over so much that just didn't matter with Prowl still awake. "As intense as our debates often were, he is a fine Sovereign. I voted for him as my first pick."

"Who else was in contention?" Prowl asked with open curiosity.

"All of the Masters. Though I suppose the notable ones would include Tornado, my Daoshi and Aurora, who was the presumptive next Sovereign before we lost Vanguard in those first joors after launch. When the final round of voting was counted, Dai Atlas' skills as a field general on the inter-galactic level were more important than Aurora's skills at managing the Order within a small Citadel. Besides, he may be the newest Master in the Order, but he's likely the oldest mech in the exodus," Wing continued after finishing off his second cube. "At least he listens to others even if he doesn't always agree with the advice given. Anyway, Thundercracker, what's your favorite treat?"

"Primus, it's been so long since I've anything other than what we've had," Thundercracker tried to think back. Only vague memories of fruity sweetness with a touch of tartness and a hard form he'd suck on. "It was sweet and used to last for a while before finally dissolving leaving just a hint of tartness behind."

"Sounds like some of the hard candies we used to get," Jazz added after pondering for a bit. "I think some of the flavors were unique to certain cities."

"I'm sure they were," Wing was happy to add to the conversation. "Every city had a different taste. I've tried most, between my walkabout and what was saved or recreated."

Thundercracker glanced around. "Who's turn is it, anyway?"

Jazz pondered for a bit trying to trace the conversation despite the pleasant haze from the high grade, "I think it's your turn."

"I thought it was still Wing's turn," Thundercracker said. "Oh well, Prowl, who's more aggravating, Sideswipe or Sunstreaker?"

"Sideswipe," the Praxian said emphatically. "Sunstreaker is easy to predict and thus anticipate. Sideswipes take pride in being _creative_ ," he motioned rather pointedly towards Jazz.

"I'd like to say I taught him everything he knows, but the mech came into existence as a schemer," Jazz laughed. "He's at his worst when he's bored."

"I've heard rumors about both of them. May Sideswipe never meet Skywarp on friendly terms. Neither of us will survive with our sanity intact," Thundercracker shuddered briefly and took another long drink.

"What's Skywarp's style of pranking?" Prowl asked with an internal groan at the prospect of it happening.

"Much like he is these orns. Blunt, physical and usually painful," Thundercracker shrugged his wings. "He used to be far more playful than mean."

"Sideswipe's not usually that bad but he can get mean if he doesn't like you," Jazz leaned back in his chair and snickered, "I wonder what he's doing to Ultra Magnus right now."

"Hopefully nothing that get's him in too much trouble," Wing said.

"Unlikely," Prowl said dryly despite the lift of good humor in his doorwings. "Sideswipe is required to keep Sunstreaker in check."

"So they're stuck with him as long as they don't want to deal with an angry berserker," Wing chuckled then looked down. "I need another cube. Anyone else want one?"

"Yes," Thundercracker lifted his almost empty one.

"Definitely," Jazz finished the last of his.

Prowl looked at his nearly empty cube, out at the stars and debated before finishing it. "Yes, sweet."

Carefully standing, Wing walked over and picked up the tray before moving to each of them, filling it up with empty cubes while they each took a fresh one. He managed not to drop anything although the tray did tip a bit once or twice before he got it settled. Flopping down in his chair, he asked, "Whose turn now?"

Everyone looked at Prowl.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Tac-net turned off a while back. Care to skip to the 'facing part of tonight?"

"I'm in," Wing said cheerfully.

Thundercracker grimaced and stood slowly still holding his cube, "I'll leave you three to that debate. Who's room am I taking?"

"Yours," Wing said quickly. "We'll take Prowl's. Best berth."

"Then I'll go recharge with Deadlock. At least he won't cause my processor to ache tomorrow by talking," Thundercracker tipped his wings unsteadily and headed off, leaving the other three alone. Better to crash now than to stay online contemplating Wing interfacing with grounders, even if they were flock.

When the door closed behind Thundercracker Jazz leaned over. "So what do we have in mind?"

"Lose the armor?" Prowl suggested.

"I'm game," Wing chimed in, any wariness lost in a pleasantly aroused haze and the knowledge they were flock.

Jazz was much more reluctant than the Neutral. That wasn't a risk one took in wartime. Of course, they weren't currently in a war zone, and it would be something he'd rarely ever done. Getting that close to a Praxian and a pretty flight frame. It was tempting.

"We don't need to," Prowl picked up on the discomfort more quickly than usual. "It was just a thought."

"Let's see how close we can get. Try the first round with armor and see how it go," Jazz wasn't going to completely turn down the option, especially since he was looking forward to more than just the one time with the pair. Good thing he and Wing weren't going to have to knock Prowl out like they'd initially planned; they could just concentrate on having fun.

"Works for me," Wing chirped, happy that they were willing to contemplate things that weren't normal for either.

"Agreed," Prowl nodded and stood, already rather wobbly despite only having had a single cube and rather glad that interfacing had been planned before they were all so overcharged. The questionable nature of their consent was already enough to make him a touch uneasy due to his own heavily compromised state.

"Meet you in your room?" Wing rose and started to head in a mostly straight line for the wall, knowing he'd walk better with something stable as a guide. As much as he wanted to touch the other two, falling over on top of them was not in his plans just yet. Better they all make it to the berth than have Thundercracker find them out here in a pile in the morning. The Seeker suffered enough without a lover and having to know his creation was in a berth with grounders. There was no need to rub it in his faceplates.

"Yeah. Fall down someplace soft," Jazz grinned and walked far more steadily than he should have. It didn't surprise any of them that he made it to the room first, or that Wing was last, or that the Aerial came in to see his gestalt mates kissing in an uncoordinated effort to arouse.

Normally he'd take a moment to savor their efforts and enjoy the show, but right now all he wanted was to go over and join them. Wing managed to reach the pair without falling over and leaned in to kiss the back of Prowl's neck. The flare of welcome-arousal greeted him from Prowl while Jazz was a bit busy at first to notice he was there. The first touch to the former dancer's frame earned a matching flare of welcome.

"Who's in the middle?" Prowl asked as he turned his felt for a kiss from Wing.

"You first?" Wing asked between kisses. "I'd like to spike you while you spike Jazz."

Prowl hummed in agreement and claimed Jazz's mouth as he rubbed his open but not yet extended spike array against Jazz's hip in an effort to focus the buzz in his systems to something useful.

Wing kept his hands busy wandering between Jazz and Prowl's frames, still planting kisses all along the Praxian's neck and shoulders. He opened his own spike cover, letting the show in front of him ramp up him up.

Jazz reached down and ran fingers across Prowl's array reaching in to stroke the spike tip. Prowl pressed into the touch with a low, moan and rumble of his engine, then again as Wing's hand found Jazz's valve cover and teased it open.

Wing played with the edges of Jazz's valve, teasing the sensors around the rim as much as the platelets, before sliding a finger inside to test how slick he was. The easy flow of lubricant sank into all the tiny seams in his finger caused tiny zaps to jump between their frames as the lubricant gave an easy path. His other hand reached down to Prowl's valve panel, wanting to play with both grounders at once. It opened willingly, the gleam of lubricant already oozing into the platelets. He latched onto Prowl's neck and focused on stroking both sets of fingers around his lovers' valves, playing with the rim and sliding fingers inside to stroke all the sensors he could reach.

It was difficult to tell who was enjoying what the most, but their intermingled fields were proof to all that it was all welcome.

"Wing," Prowl gasped out as his calipers closed around the fingers inside him. "Drive me, drive us."

Wing interlaced his fingers with Jazz's hand as they stroked Prowl's spike while Wing's other hand slipped out to line his spike up with Prowl's valve. The first push in came with a flare of pleasure and a needy sound from Jazz that turned into a moan as Prowl was guided into him.

With a groan of pleasure the Aerial began to drive his hips as their charge climbed, filling the Praxian's valve as the force drove Prowl's spike deeper into Jazz with every thrust. It felt good, so natural, with all three of them well versed in the position. Wing Leaned forward, shifting the angle a bit so he could bite Prowl's neck. The charge that blasted all of them from it was just short of an overload and left Prowl writhing between them, desperate for the release.

Jazz fumbled for Prowl's doorwings as he latched onto Prowl's shoulder just shy of his throat cables, using his dexterous fingers to tease all the hot spots he'd located the last few times they'd interfaced. He hadn't even started working for real when Prowl's keen reached its crescendo with a massive surge of energy into the two mechs connected with him. Wing felt his own overload feed off the surge and then sent it looping back through Prowl, trying to draw out the pleasure coursing through the Praxian's systems while also spike the pleasure back into Jazz. 

Pulling away from Prowl's neck, Wing licked the bite as he panted, "You want to stay in the middle or give me a turn?"

"You're welcome to the middle," Prowl purred as he pulled out of Jazz. "Top or bottom?" he asked the mech under them.

"How about I top Wing this time," Jazz grinned as he slid out from under Prowl. "You want to be on your back below watching us or do you want to be on your knees while Wing takes you?"

"On my back," Prowl decided with ease as he settled where Jazz had been and lifted his arms to draw Wing to him for a heated kiss. "As good as biting feels, I do miss kissing on occasion."

"We'll need to correct that balance as often as possible," Wing nipped at Prowl's chin briefly before deciding to thoroughly explore the Praxian's mouth with his glossa, chasing the hints of high grade mixed with Prowl's own flavor. He was briefly distracted by a surge of pleasure as the tip of Jazz's spike entered his valve and the hand on his spike that guided him into Prowl's. It felt impossibly perfect to be between these two mechs that seemed to hate and love each other in turn. After their first merge into Flightplan it was impossible to miss the animosity was very real, but so was the connection that no one could name that bound the two together.

When Jazz began to thrust all those thoughts fled Wing's processor. It took all his focus just to cycle his calipers and keep kissing Prowl. It was easiest to just let Jazz set the pace, the mech's natural rhythm finding a pattern that sent everyone's charge spiraling higher. One of Wing's hands found Prowl's spike, stroking it in time with the thrusts driving his own frame wild. All the while, Prowl caressed and played with Wing's frame, teasing wires and seams until the charge almost crackled through Wing's systems. It felt so good, being taken care of by two lovers at once in a way that pleasured them all.

With gasps and moans above and below him, Wing surrendered to the charge cracking inside him and roared his release. He could feel Prowl overload below him, and Jazz followed after a few more thrusts which only prolonged his own pleasure. Collapsing on top of Prowl, Wing kept up lazy kisses while he muttered, "My turn beneath you two. You want to take me directly or through Jazz?"

"Jazz should get a turn in the middle. I believe he's too uneasy with it to enjoy anything without his armor," Prowl purred with a sultry kiss for Wing.

Wing watched Jazz and Prowl shift position, marveling at the pair of grounders. This was his flock, and he watched them touch and kiss before Jazz moved into position above him. Reaching up, he ran his fingers along Jazz's chestplate. He knew in that first touch that they wouldn't open tonight, but the resistance didn't go much past that, but he couldn't find objection to it as they kissed above him and Jazz pressed his lubricant slicked spike into Wing without looking.

"Primus you're hot together," Wing rumbled, his optics locked on the way they seemed to naturally angle themselves to kiss despite being back to chest. There was only a slight shifting as Prowl sank into Jazz and began a slow rhythm so very unlike the pace Wing and Jazz had set.

Even as his hands wandered across Jazz's frame, the slow pace let Wing keep his focus on his lovers' actions above him. Watching the pair was as arousing as the feeling of Jazz's spike sliding inside his valve. They were taking their time and clearly enjoying each other even as Jazz didn't miss any opportunity to tease at Wing's plating. It was a wonderful way to burn off so much high grade. As much as part of him wished the others were here he was also glad to avoid the negativity Deadlock inevitably brought and the socialized revolution Thundercracker couldn't help. Jazz and Prowl may not like each other all the time but their default seemed a lot closer to friendly than anyone else.

That train of thought was washed away as Jazz shifted focus to kissing Wing and Prowl sped things up a bit. He couldn't reach the Praxian's doorwings very well from this angle, so Wing concentrated as best he could on sending his pleasure through his field even as he flexed his calipers around Jazz's spike. ::You two are so hot,:: he couldn't help commenting even with Jazz's thorough attempts to distract him with a very skilled glossa.

Prowl's field flushed a bit in pride before he slid a hand under Jazz's jaw to gently tip his helm back. Wing watched in fascination as Jazz went from curiously compliant to melting as Prowl suckled and licked a stubby sensor horn.

Curious to feel more of that desire that was building in Jazz's field, Wing leaned up and ran his glossa delicately along the grounder's shoulder, tracing the edge of his armor over to his throat cables.

::It's the sensor horns,:: Prowl commed and tipped Jazz's helm so Wing could reach the one Prowl wasn't playing with. Between them Jazz went completely lax in the way a good wing rub would make Wing.

Playing with Jazz's frame, making him purr with pleasure was a bit of intoxicating fun. Wing wanted to see what other pleasant noise he could draw out of the lustful mech. Suckling the sensory horn, Wing swirled his glossa around the tip and enjoyed the way it made Jazz shiver and melt that much more. It wasn't a pace they could maintain for long and despite the way Jazz's frame seemed to hold no tension the stimulation to so much of his frame forced him taunt with no warning.

Feeling the pleasure coursing through his partner's field, Wing hummed around the sensory horn in his mouth as he clenched his valve around Jazz's spike. ::Let me feel you, lover,:: he commed. He knew Jazz was incapable of responding, but as Prowl's overload surged into the mingled field Jazz lost the last of himself and pump crackling transfluid deep into Wing. As Jazz slumped over Wing's frame, Wing released the sensory horn with a last lingering lick before twisting to kiss Prowl's jaw, systems still revved even as his valve spasmed around the spike. "How about we give Jazz a good show?"

"I would enjoy that," Prowl purred deeply and helped Wing moved the lax and crackling frame of their lover to one side of the berth.

Once Jazz was settled so he would have a good view of the pair, Wing settled back and carefully removed the armor from his left arm. Jazz's reaction to the suggestion had reinforced his suspicions that all of his gestalt mates would have varying issues with this kind of vulnerability, and he was willing to make the first show of trust with these two flock mates. Wing privately admitted he wouldn't be willing to take this risk with Deadlock and he seriously doubted any of the others would ever trust him that much.

Prowl's optics glittered in anticipation and the sound of armor locks, far stronger and more complex than any of Wing's, echoed in the room in response to bare protoform. Prowl reached his field out as he began to remove the armor of one arm, mirroring Wing's movements with smooth motions and several eager trills.

Wing extended his exposed arm to Prowl for inspection, patiently waiting for the Praxian to initiate contact before gently running his own fingers along the bared protoform. As they started exploring each other and finding new sensitive spots, Wing reached down with his other hand and began fumbling with the armor on his right leg. Prowl's still-armored hand reached down and paused in offer, caught between being sociable, slipping free of his own armor and remembering that Wing was a new lover doing this with him for the first time.

"Do what feels right," Wing purred as he leaned forward to gently kiss Prowl. After moving the plating aside where neither of them would accidentally damage themselves, Wing traced a finger down his own leg, marveling at the sensitivity of the newly exposed areas. It made him eager to shed the rest of his armor and Prowl was very willing. As much as he wanted to savor this it was too enjoyable to help Prowl get them both out of their armor and soon he was kissing the Praxian and marveling at what the doorwings looked like without all the modern armor design.

"Now that I didn't know," Jazz admitted as Prowl flexed and fluttered the five flattened panels only the size of Jazz's armored wrist, displaying now each could move independently.

"No reason you would," Prowl willingly pressed the almost feathery lengths into Wing's gentle hands.

Wing stroked each individual section marveling at the reactions his delicate touches caused in Prowl's field. Impulsively, he shifted closer to Prowl still careful to keep his movements obvious and nonthreatening and gently ran his glossa along the outer edge of the furthest panel. It caused the Praxian's entire frame to shiver and quiver and press forward in a blind effort to reach the thin jointed limbs that were Wing's inner wings.

Wing shifted and pressed against Prowl, as eager to play further with those beautifully delicate panels as he was to have his own wing cores touched. A heated kiss turned molten as two sets of hands stroked protoform wings and doorwing panels still unused to touch.

In Prowl's field was a deep familiarity and longing-relief for the building sensation, the abatement of a long suppressed desire that flared out to include Jazz, welcoming the non-participant into the pleasure of the touch. Wing own lust was amplified by the field surrounding him. He had spent far too many vorns without intimate company before joining this flock, and it was a relief to have them so welcoming of his touch. 

There was more that Wing was missing though, and he asked, ::How far do you want to take this? I'd love to merge with you.::

 _Yes_ roared across his field well before Prowl returned the comm to confirm it. ::Yes. Want.::

Wing spared a brief thought about their other lover in the room with them, but he figured Jazz would recognize what was happening and know how to keep from triggering as a potential threat during such a vulnerable moment. Heated and wanting to feel that connected to at least one of his gestalt mates, Wing triggered his spark chamber to open. He shivered when Prowl lifted his fingers to caress the rim lightly, teasing the bright yellow leaders reaching out for him.

Then it was Prowl's turn to display his ice blue spark, welcoming the first contact as he brought their chests together. Wing had a brief wish to touch and play but discarded that for later as the powerful spark touched his own, Wing's desire mixed with a bit of cautious wariness slipping across their connection. Prowl's spark replied with a calm peace that even Wing had rarely felt. Despite all that Prowl had endured, all the behavior that had been learned to survive, the spark at the core of the mech was soothing, calm and ordered in a way that suited the frame it had.

Prowl's calm spark was very different from most of Wing's past lovers -- it took a rebellious spark to leave Cybertron rather than fight for it -- but Prowl's calm was exactly what he needed right now, and he took a moment to revel in the comforting presence. When that pale spark embraced him further, gaining as much from giving sanctuary as Wing gained from receiving it, they both calmed even more. Wing let go of the caution and focused on the desire, trusting that Prowl's spark was not something to fear but something to admire and enjoy. To be at peace and calm so deeply after all it had endured was an amazing gift and it made Wing all the more determined to shield this precious spark as much as he could from the damage he knew Prowl's coding could do to it.

In return Prowl welcome the sentiment, welcomed being shielded even as he shielded, and wanted the connection even more than Wing.

~I'm glad you are with us,~ Prowl's spark purred, pouring all the variances of having _unit_ again into the bond.

~When I left my city I thought I was settling for a loner's life, but instead I found my way to a flock that accepts me despite my faults. This is worth everything that has happened up to now,~ Wing's spark echoed back.

~Everyone has faults. You are bonded?~ Prowl nudged at the faint link in Wing's spark.

~Ah, yes. That is Challenger of the Ways, my Great Sword,~ Wing explained with an undercurrent that it was not spoken of outside the Order. ~They are sentient.~

The sensation of curiosity sharpened both in spark and the processors beyond it. ~It wants to go home.~

~Yes, the Great Swords are one of the main things that makes us a Knight of Light, and they prefer to be together. Challenger of the Ways was very unhappy when I was enslaved but reluctantly agreed my best chance was to wait to be freed rather than try to escape on my own. Since our gestalt was formed it has been pleased with the majority of what has happened, especially the trust that is developing among our unit,~ Wing answered truthfully, although he chose his words with care. He did not want to have to try to lie to his lover's spark, but he was wary of that powerful processor and how it might interpret what he said. Hopefully things would continue to go smoothly, but Jazz should be paying attention and ready if their original plan for tonight had to be reactivated.

~Challenger of the Ways is not a calm spark,~ Prowl said with a mixture of curious and statement. ~You are not as calm as you display.~

~No. I was trained to calm myself and be calm. It does not come all that naturally to me, or to Challenger of the Ways,~ Wing admitted.

~By choice?~ Prowl asked.

~Yes. Knights must enter the Order willingly and knowingly,~ Wing answered firmly. ~The Great Swords have different temperaments just as Knights do. Finding a Great Sword you are compatible with is one of the steps.~ 

There was a sense that Prowl was fascinated and wanted to know more, but even as he tried to form the question his ability to focus was failing rapidly to the charge built between them.

~I'll explain more later,~ Wing offered before the charge sent him chasing after Prowl as they fell into pleasure.


	3. Shift 3: Jazz/Thundercracker

Thundercracker stared down at Wing lying peacefully offline on his berth in the largest room, the one they had shared. It would be far too easy to pretend his youngling would online soon and start talking to him instead of the four metacycle wait for their next shift overlap, though at least for Thundercracker he'd only have to suffer through a single metacycle shift while conscious and alone. Turning his attention away from Wing, he refocused on the most critical part of this stage. Looking over a Jazz who was standing next to their Praxian, he asked, "Is he in stasis as well?"

"Solidly so," Jazz answered, his tone as serious as Thundercracker had ever heard him. "I'll be a few kliks making sure he stays that way."

"Take all the time you need to be thorough. We'll all rest easier knowing the tac-net won't be onlining him prematurely," Thundercracker dropped a hand next to Wing's offline form as he waited for Jazz to finish his work. It wasn't that he didn't trust the saboteur to take care of their tactician; it just felt right to watch over the pair while Jazz worked. If he were honest with himself, just teeking Wing's steady, relaxed, pain-free field was reason enough to stay. In stasis or not, Wing helped steady him.

The next metacycle was not going to be fun, but wouldn't be the worst he'd endured.

After five kliks, Jazz, looking a little weary, finally detached himself from the offline form and said, "Tac-net put up a fight near the end, but Prowl'll stay out until someone physically brings him online."

Thundercracker nodded faintly but didn't move. "Then it's time to set the new coordinates."

Jazz turned and looked towards the door, "Yeah, time to commit to this new course."

"So we're really doing this, abandoning Cybertron," the Seeker murmured even as he followed.

"We don't have much choice. You know as well as I do that we're not going to be accepted by anyone back there," Jazz stopped and looked back at him steadily. "You also know what that war will do to Wing; the same thing that happened to all of us."

"And worse," he admitted with a deep sigh. "Yet we are also going somewhere that is exactly what we all wanted to destroy."

"Not exactly," Jazz said. "From what Wing's said there are some important differences. They're controlling the population growth and not outpacing their resources. It could be his idealism talking, but it sounds like they're trying to keep the corruption to a minimum."

"Maybe. I hope you're right," Thundercracker conceded as they sat down in the cockpit at the controls and began changing the ship's course. It hadn't surprised anyone that Wing hadn't told them of the final destination, only a midpoint, but it was still annoying to not know where they were going. "How many stops do you want to make on the way?"

"I'll make sure I am," Jazz said calmly before continuing in a lighter tone, "I'd say one supply run and a couple of stops to drive and fly. We both need the chance to burn off some energy and move."

"Agreed," Thundercracker's natural calm broke momentarily. He stood as Jazz did, trusting the autopilot to follow its orders with only a periodic check. "What brought you into the war? I know it was Praxus for Prowl, Vos for myself and opportunity for Deadlock, but not why you fight so hard."

"I already admitted I'm ISO from long before the war; Whiplash took me in and trained me to be what I am. My loyalty was to him, and he faithfully serves the Prime," Jazz answered finally.

"I know the type," Thundercracker's harmonic was respectful.

"Yes, but now I am at a crossroads I never really imagined. Given what has happened I cannot return and serve Whiplash effectively and trying would ultimately mean risking my unit. The only course I see is to try and build a new life for our group, and Wing has offered an option. If it doesn't work out, we'll go out and make our own way like Deadlock suggested," Jazz sighed and headed up to the viewing area. "Prowl will need reformatted in that case. He might need it even in the city if they don't have a high enough ranked Praxian to countermand his orders."

A nod and silence held until they were both sitting, watching the stars zoom past, until the silence became too much.

"You should have an easy time fitting in from all I've heard and haven't heard. I know you've done infiltration well enough even Soundwave takes note of you," Thundercracker said quietly.

"I can probably fake it as a cover," Jazz acknowledged readily. "Honestly, you have more experience in a normal society than I ever had."

"Perhaps. I expect I had the strongest social bonds according to civilian society. I also might have the most difficult time because I won't be learning a new society, but trying to integrate into one that uses all the same glyphs, all the same ideals as the one I spend the war in, and yet they have very little in common. Civilian Seeker society has about as much in common with what I've come to know as society as anyone else. Not that it truly matters. I'll adapt again as I have before. Honestly, the hardest part is likely to be starting at the bottom again. I've held rank since I hatched."

"We're all going to have problems adjusting to civilian life, especially Deadlock," Jazz agreed. "Wing might be able to help a bit with introductions to some with those Seekers he knows, just like his contacts will help the rest of us integrate. You're strong and fast, two things even I know are important to Seekers. You'll also be something new, which can be attractive to unattached individuals in an isolated community."

"All true," Thundercracker acknowledged. "It will still be strange."

"Mech, our lives have been beyond strange since we entered that facility," Jazz settled in a chair and stared out the window a moment before asking quietly, "Did Wing give you the packet of laws?"

"Yes. They are all familiar on some level. Air Martials, like Praxian Enforcers, are expected to have at least a passing familiarity with other city's major laws. The mix and match they did is odd, but easy enough to adapt to. Nothing in there is too far off the fundamental question of 'did they cause harm' that most modern law was written on," Thundercracker dipped his wings. "A core tenant of being law enforcement is being adaptable to new and changing laws. Not sure if you ever saw it, but Prowl's the most adaptable of us all on that level. He's been hardcoded to update his entire reaction tree with every legal change and order. I'm glad Vos never went that far, but it was drilled into us that we enforced the law, not tradition."

"I've probably seen that in Prowl and didn't recognize it," Jazz acknowledged. "Good to have confirmation we're at least going in with that level of familiarity. It'll be tricky training ourselves out of the more aggressive responses to others, especially for Deadlock. We're going to have to self-monitor him; that'll help us prove our unit is willing to try and adapt to civilian life."

"It will. I expect the most dangerous phase for everyone is that first one where we've been completely disarmed but haven't yet found a safe place. I don't know about Prowl, but the rest of us have never been without deadly weapons for long. The level of hyper-vigilance and over reacting is not going to be pretty to deal with. It not like any of us are much less dangerous without weapons than with them," Thundercracker murmured and stretched his wings out into a full rotation before settling them again. "If Wing wasn't so convinced that it would go against us, I'd suggest we be left with a small blaster or some integrated weapon each until we've settled into their new laws. Keep us segregated if need be, but we all know we'll settle faster if we don't feel defenseless."

"Yeah, that's not going to be a pleasant experience, especially after what we just went through," Jazz agreed. "With everything that's happened and all the changes Deadlock's going to be under the most stress. Wing's probably going to insist on warning them he's a berserker; Dai Atlas should definitely know what that means. It would increase the risk they'll reject us, but they might appreciate the warning and realize the honesty means we're serious about doing everything we can to integrate."

"True enough," Thundercracker grunted. "He's not a mech I'd go against willingly, even as Flightplan. He's not even a Seeker, but he's everything most Seekers aspire to. Difficult as it is, I can't find it in myself a reason to object to him as the Winglord, the highest authority. How well do you know his record?"

"I know it well enough to realize he could have tipped the balance of the war either way by taking a side, and he's probably the main reason they made it off Cybertron," Jazz admitted. "It's hard to believe Wing is actually talking about Dai Atlas. Especially given how casually he talks about training him."

"It is a bit odd," Thundercracker chuckled a bit. "Though I expect many would say the same of us and how we speak of the Prime and Air Commander. Thoughts on how to improve Wing's odds of winning the argument when we get there? My experience tends to run towards the high strung and insane."

Jazz shared a smile, "I'm used to the overly idealistic and stubborn so I guess we cover the spectrum. Wing's made a few comments about his Great Sword approving of his actions so far. I'm still not completely certain how that works, but it sounds like it would be an argument in his favor. We're also going to have to dig through some of their more obscure laws to cover our afts; makes me wish we had Prowl to work on that part of it. I'm going to take my shifts with Deadlock and work on getting him more cooperative."

"We all are, though I will say that as irritable as he is, he obeys those he respects. The way he responded to Megatron was amazing," Thundercracker sighed. "He had a lot of discipline when Megatron gave him an order. What I never worked out was how Turmoil never managed it. Mech is discipline personified and as savage a warrior as anyone I know."

Jazz growled at the mention of the mech who'd systematically tortured one of his unit, "From what Deadlock's said it sounds like Turmoil never tried to earn his respect; he wanted Deadlock's submission. Deadlock is a lot like Sunstreaker in some ways; neither responds well to simple threats or overt violence. It's a balancing act getting them to respect you, but their loyalty when they do is something to marvel at."

"Sounds rather like Starscream and Skywarp, really. Probably like you too," the Seeker cocked a wing in question. "Who has Sunstreaker's loyalty?"

"Besides Sideswipe? Prowl. He doesn't belittle Sunstreaker or act afraid of him losing control. Sunstreaker knows Prowl will put them in the most effective place in a battle but won't abandon them to fend for themselves." Jazz grumbled briefly before continuing, "He can't stand Ultra Magnus; the twins are not having a pleasant time with Prowl here."

"How high a risk is there of them defecting?" Thundercracker asked carefully.

Jazz thought for a long moment before answering, "To the Decepticons? Not likely. They know they're hated there, and they do have some loyalty to Prime, Ratchet and a few others. They might leave Cybertron given the chance, but they'd probably want to take Bluestreak and few others with them."

"No surprise. War makes for tight bonds. Still, I'd think a couple gladiators wouldn't let being hated or feared motivate them." Thundercracker paused. "Do you know how they ended up Autobots? They're exactly the kind I expected to have allied with Megatron."

Jazz sighed, "They weren't always gladiators although tracing them gets a bit tricky at times. Sideswipe was a merchant, and Sunstreaker was an artist. I've seen some of his old works, which were pretty good, but he doesn't paint anything but frames anymore. As for joining the Decepticons...sometimes I wonder if on some level they just recognized Megatron's insanity before everyone else did."

Thundercracker snorted. "Takes one to know one. Or maybe they had a falling out in the arenas. It wouldn't be the first time a hero to many was a monster to a few."

"It could be either honestly," Jazz sighed. "I know they really dislike him, but I don't know how much of that came from after they joined the Autobots. That's the reason I know they wouldn't go to the Decepticons."

"This long into the war, having nowhere else to go is what I expect keeps most non-Seekers in place," Thundercracker acknowledged. "I know it's what brought most of the grunts into the Decepticons. I have little doubt it was much the same for the Autobots."

"Yeah," Jazz sat in a silence for a while before finally asking, "So, Wing mentioned something about us being expected to have sparklings. Prowl and carrying just ain't gonna happen. You interested?"

The visceral reaction as Thundercracker all but jumped to his pedes, wings high and wide, startled Jazz to his pedes.

"What, mech? You didn't blink when Wing brought it up," Jazz stared at the Seeker trying to calm down.

"Visions carry, not Orders," Thundercracker got out before he calmed himself enough to sit once more. "Trines are not just any three Seekers who get along. Each type has a purpose in the trine and in society. I will gladly create when I have a trine again, but I will not be a carrier. What of you?"

Jazz thought for a bit before answering, "Never really thought about creating before, let alone carrying. I don't know...if it will help convince them to let us stay it might be worth it."

"You're really the only grounder who can," Thundercracker pointed out calmly. "You said Prowl can't, and I dare you to put Deadlock and carrier in the same thought."

Jazz actually pondered that for a nanoklik before shuttering, "That won't work. Looks like if we want any sparklings running around, either you get a trine or Wing or I sparks up."

"I expect Wing is amendable. It is the culture that created him. I will create when my trine bond is stable, as I was raised to. It will mean a great deal more for someone who wasn't brought up with the expectation to create to accept how they do things and have a sparkling. You and Prowl, for all the ill-will he occasionally shows you, would produce an exceptional individual," Thundercracker said, watching the grounder carefully.

Jazz stared at Thundercracker like he had just suggesting ripping his own wings off. "You do realize Prowl's a sparked Enforcer? He doesn't have the coding for creating let alone carrying. Even if we could convince him that it was a practical idea, it might be easier for me to find someone there to carry for. Pit, that might help convince them we want to join their society and not be isolated."

"True. I wasn't thinking of bringing in an outsider. You are sociable enough to make those bonds," Thundercracker acknowledged. "Though I wasn't suggesting that Prowl carry. We were discussing your carry as the only grounder that should."

Jazz just shrugged, "Somehow thinking of Prowl in either role with a sparkling seems just as unlikely, but I've known a few sparked Enforcers from different cities. They're an interesting bunch with some odd quirks when it comes to creations. I guess I'm going to have to actually think about carrying. That's not something I imagined, especially after the war escalated."

"Understandable. Remember it won't be on you and the sire to do all the work. We are flock. We'll all help," Thundercracker told him. "That will include my eventual trine and immediate flock. You will not lack of assistance."

"They're not going to mind helping to raise a grounder?" Jazz asked curiously. "'Cause even if I sparked up with Wing there's good odds the sparkling won't fly."

"My trine will be. They'd have to be to accept me as their Order, the trine's leader," Thundercracker said with certainty. "Our situation will not be a secret. The flock I join may not be pleased, but they should still exist under the same rules I was raised with. Flock is flock, and you take care of your flock. It would be socially inadvisable for a flock that took me in, knowing I am part of a gestalt with grounders and all are expected to create, to turn around and refuse to aid my gestalt, my flock, in caring for a creation. Most flocks would not accept me for just that reason. The one that does will be willing because it is expected of them."

Jazz nodded in acceptance of the situation, "If we were going back to Cybertron they'd probably accept us for the battlefield power Flightplan represents and the fighting skills the rest of us possess. I know enough from listening to Wing to figure our fighting skills are not going to be a plus for the civilians although they Knights might like a new sparring challenge, but he's not directly a part of the civilian population so I won't get a good read on it until we're there. The rest of us are going to have to quickly look at making ourselves useful so we won't be as much of a burden on you socially while you look for a trine." After a pause, he continued, "the biggest two problems are Prowl and Deadlock."

"Prowl is law enforcement. He'll adapt fine to a new place in it. Deadlock. Yes, he'll be an issue. Still, he has been socialized before. I watched him when he joined the Decepticon elite. He's a lot smarter than he lets on."

"Why would he do that?" Jazz asked. He had an opinion, but it would be interesting to see what the Seeker thought.

"Safer, easier," Thundercracker shrugged. "Skywarp takes shameless advantage of it. No one expects much of a dumb grunt."

"Can't say I'm surprised. I expected as much since he survived so long on the streets. If he decides he wants to play the social game and help us fit in, I bet he can find opportunities once we're there whether they're in security or sports. We'll have to keep an optic out to make sure he stays away from any gangs. Wing's too idealistic; there has to be a darker underside to the city even if it's just small and very well hidden," Jazz sighed and shifted his thoughts to their other problem member. "Prowl is a whole different issue than just adapting his Enforcer coding. There's that slagging tac-net to deal with, and that thing is a pit of a problem when it gets in a snit. Prowl's also got all that blasted coding telling him to haul it back to Cybertron. If they don't have a way to override it, he's going to have to be reformatted. He's a cold glitch at times, but I don't want to see him wiped."

"I'm not sure it's such a terrible thing," Thundercracker shrugged. "To forget all that you've lost, everything you've done, start fresh in a place that never knew you."

Jazz grunted a bit wistfully before continuing, "Yeah, except we'll be gestalt bonded to what is effectively a new spark. Who's going to raise him? You and your trine? Or some strangers that none of us know."

"As I understand it he'll boot up as socially functional as any young adult and as good with law as an Academy graduate. It'll wipe him of his experience, not his base coding," Thundercracker tried to remember lessons of long ago about how their little cousin city functioned. "Wiping him will simply mean that he'll be very open to who to accept as a CO."

"That's not as bad as some of the wipes I've seen where they lost everything, although I'd still prefer to avoid it unless it's absolutely necessary," Jazz seemed a bit more relaxed but still unhappy about the idea. "It still leaves the tac-net as a problem. From what I understand that thing can't be removed. Prowl was created to support it."

"How is it a problem after he's wiped?" Thundercracker frowned.

Jazz tried to put his nebulous concerns into words, still privately disbelieving he was willingly telling a Decepticon these kinds of secrets, "Prowl was designed and created to support an experimental tac-net. He's also got multiple AIs in his helm running that thing and some of his other higher systems; he admitted the AIs took some damage from his previous injuries and aren't completely repaired. I don't know what wiping him will do to the internal balancing act he's developed to cope with everything. Given what everything costs and represents, it also wouldn't surprise me if he's got other surprises embedded to keep him obedient."

Thundercracker grunted. "It would surprise if there weren't. We'll just have to hope that they respond to a legal authority as well as he should."

Jazz suddenly frowned at another stray thought, "Did the Decepticons ever reformat a member of a gestalt? I know the Autobots haven't, and I can't remember ever hearing of it happening. I have no idea what if any effect that will have on Flightplan. I'm also not certain how he'll respond if it happens. Especially if we can't merge and explain what is happening before it occurs."

"Has it been done; yes. Did the gestalt survive; yes. I tried to keep a sensor on Shockwave because any major event with him would inevitably turn Starscream's mood. I never saw detailed records of it though and I would question the application to our situation even if I had. There are a great many factors that separate a Shockwave experiment from our situation," Thundercracker hummed thoughtfully. "From Wing, I expect this would be done in a more Autobot style."

"Good to know we'll hopefully all get through it relatively sane then; I don't have much experience with the internal workings of gestalts beyond what we've done so far. It's not like it's easy to hack someone like Devastator. Hopefully if anyone has to be reformatted it can be explained to Flightplan first; I like the youngling and don't like feeling him traumatized," Jazz admitted.

Thundercracker winced. "There's no way we can explain it with Prowl in the merge. If he's bad enough off that he needs to be reformatted, he wouldn't be able to say he accepts being reformatted."

Jazz nodded in agreement, "Which leaves us with the possibility of an angry gestalt that thinks his components are being abused again. Hopefully Flightplan can get to experience at least a bit of the city before a reformat has to happen. If he can feel Prowl's distress it might make it easier for him to believe it was necessary."

"I wouldn't count on it. Dai Atlas is not that foolish. They have nothing capable of stopping Flightplan without destroying him," Thundercracker pointed out. "Surely you know of the general."

"Yeah, which means we're going to be separated until they decide what to do with us. If he does decide to let us stay he's going to want to know what he's dealing with, especially with a gestalt. Hopefully Wing has as much pull as he seems to imply he does," Jazz grunted.

"It is our best hope," Thundercracker agreed. "Sad to say it is better odds than Cybertron would give us."

"We're pretty much out of luck anyway you look at it. The only other option besides Cyberton is Deadlock's suggestion of becoming mercenaries, and there is no way Prowl can currently follow that route," Jazz groaned before continuing. "Maybe if Dai Atlas doesn't want us he'll at least let us get Prowl reformatted before we strike out on our own."

"I don't think he's that stupid, but I'll hope for it," Thundercracker sighed.

* * *

Thundercracker stared at his berth, drained from too many recent joors with no or fitful recharge. It shouldn't bother him this much to be alone. Wing hadn't been in stasis that long, barely more than a decaorn, and he'd recharged alone before, sometimes for metacycles at a time. That was back when he had a trine and a purpose, back on Cybertron. Frustrated and discouraged, he turned and headed for Wing's berth and the small comfort he could draw from the other flier's field.

With gentle fingers he stroked his creation's cheekplate, simply taking in the small fluctuations of the healthy field. He stared, then glanced at the berth they'd recharged in together for that first metacycle. There was no way Wing would object to laying on it instead of this one. His wings quivered slightly before Thundercracker made up his mind and carefully picked Wing up so they could recharge together.

Even with the recent armor increase Wing was still very light in his arms and did not stir as he moved over to the berth. Placing Wing gently off on one side, Thundercracker shifted him to the most comfortable position he could manage. Once he was satisfied, he lowered himself down next to Wing, letting the peaceful field envelop him while he shielded the vulnerable Aerial with a wing. It was a blissfully short time before he sank into the welcome and solid recharge he needed so badly.

* * *

Thundercracker roused, reluctant but compliant to protocols that had kept him functional through the war. Someone had just entered the room. A grounder. That was never a good thing, especially with his vulnerable creation next to him. Onlining completely, he sprang up and off the berth, putting himself between the intruder and Wing as he prepared to fight.

Jazz froze instantly, then stepped back and lifted his open hands. "Whoa, stand down. You were gone a long time."

Thundercracker pulled up short, staring at the only other active member of his flock. After a moment to reorient himself, he stammered, "My protocols activated."

"It's okay, believe me, I know how it works. Between my own times readjusting and getting my agents back to being Autobots on the surface, I get it," Jazz assured with a smile. "I see you finally worked out how to get some recharge. Glad it was just that."

It was a bit embarrassing realizing Jazz knew he'd been having problems recharging, but it made sense that the SpecOps agent would recognize his problem. "It helps; he's always helped," he finally managed to say.

Jazz's smile turned gentle but he didn't try to get closer. "We've all had trouble recharging. All the 'facing wasn't strictly to relieve the boredom. There's a system coming up with some solid bodies big enough to drive around on. What do you say to stopping for half an orn and tearing up some distance?"

Flying. Maybe that would release some of his stress and let him settle further so he could function better again. Glancing back at Wing he said, "As long as it's truly uninhabited, getting off this ship sounds like a good idea; we both need to move."

"Great. I'll drop the autopilot and find us a completely lifeless rock. I'll comm ya when we're on final," Jazz said cheerfully before all but dancing away.

Thundercracker waited until Jazz was gone before settling back down next to Wing, wanting to get as much recharge as possible before they arrived. He'd need to be alert to fly.

* * *

Wings wide and thrusters hot, Thundercracker surged through the thick atmosphere, reveling in the heavy gravity trying to pull him down. It took _strength_ to remain in the air on this world and it felt wonderful to strain against it and win. This was a world whose skies needed strength to master, and he was more than up for the challenge. The other active member of his flock seemed to be enjoying the change as well. He'd circled back a few times to check on the grounder's progress. Jazz was far below and behind him dodging and weaving gracefully through rugged terrain. Here and there where the ridges were higher, Jazz would race up them only to tumble down in root mode and drive off at the base in a series of smooth movements. It was graceful in its own way, impressive for a ground-bound mech.

The only thing missing right now was the rest of their flock: Wing circling around him up here in the sky while Deadlock and Prowl chased after Jazz down below. Flightplan would also have enjoyed the challenge from the heavier gravity, but the youngster rarely ever complained about anything new the others showed him. It was like with any hatchling less than a decaorn old. Flightplan didn't have the experience to anticipate on his own yet, and possibly never would. There was so much of living that Flightplan would likely never know. Love, overload, even just being young and blameless.

Hopefully he wouldn't have to face too much war and violence so he wouldn't become aggressive like the other gestalts Thundercracker had known. Better they find a non-violent use for the hatchling. That was another reason to hope this plan came to fruition and they found a home at the end of this journey. There were good, peaceful uses for a gestalt in a peaceful city. Construction, repair, search and rescue. Probably more. Not that Flightplan would need to do anything for his keep. As unlikely as Deadlock was to have a respectable function, the rest of them had good functions at one time and they could again once they got out of the wartime priority trees. 

Someday they would have a home. His flock would have a place.

* * *

As strange as it seemed to be grateful for the minimal task of inventory, Thundercracker was and he could teek that Jazz was too. They both may have done long, boring missions before but that didn't mean either of them liked it. This mission didn't even have the promise of action in the end.

Checking a canister, he asked Jazz, "We are running a bit low on copper. Do you think we should stop and pick up more before Deadlock's shift starts?"

"Mmm, yeah. I love it sweet and despite denials I think he does too. Never met a poor mech that didn't," Jazz nodded.

Thundercracker made a note on their list, "Then we will need to find a space port on route. We should also pick up some rhodium if we find it at a good price."

"So far our wartime inclinations towards not wasting supplies has kept us in good shape, though as long as we're going to stop anyway, some extra touch-up paint would be a plus. Deadlock's not much into talking or boredom," Jazz hummed as his field suggested he wasn't complaining in the least.

"We also might want to see about a few more basic repair supplies. So far we haven't had any serious training accidents, but we should be prepared especially if we run into more pirates. Most of us can manage field level repairs, and the extra parts may be useful when we arrive," Thundercracker wasn't as bothered anymore by the idea of grounders interfacing as he had been. Honestly, he was kind of jealous that they had that companionship.

Jazz grunted. "Yeah. I expect we're all better than average at field repairs, between pre-war and wartime training and existence. I know I've got field medic certs and can do a fair bit more if I need to. Deadlock would just to survive and every LEO I know of had at least first aid and most are better. Wing seems the type to know how to keep himself in shape."

"I have the equivalent of field medic training as well. We tried to avoid needing the medics as much as possible. The better shape we're in when we arrive the less of a burden we will be perceived as being on their community," Thundercracker checked another canister and made a note that they had plenty of aluminum on hand.

"Agreed. You a valve or spike mech? I might come across a toy," Jazz asked.

"I prefer spike," Thundercracker answered calmly. "See if you can find any tungsten. I doubt Deadlock has tried it before and he might enjoy the spicy kick in his energon."

"Will do," Jazz nodded. "I'll keep an optic out for a toy or interfacing lube. No reason for abstinence for lack of a suitable lover. It's not healthy. When was the last time you did a maintenance check on the dispenser?"

"I'll do that while you're out shopping," Thundercracker finished notating the inventory and passed the rest of the list of needed supplies to Jazz. "I can comm you if I need any parts."

"I'll keep an optic out too, though I think we have enough spares to cover anything short of it blowing up. Wing's the only one not paranoid about the energon supply," Jazz chuckled.

"True," Thundercracker chuckled a bit. "Going hungry is something none of us want to repeat. Has Prowl ever been shorted?"

Jazz had to think back. "Yeah, but his own doing. He's always been a top priority, but when it got tough he insisted that everyone get a survival ration, even when it meant he had to shut some stuff down or run at less than optimal levels. Not something I agreed with, but Prime's the only one that can't get away with it."

"He tried?" Thundercracker raised an optic ridge.

"Oh yeah, he's tried. Everyone accepts to his face, then someone, usually me, sneaks it back into his cube later on. Those of us with sense did it with Prowl. Frontliners are important, intel is valuable, but the spark and processor of the army has to remain strong. No one fights without a plan and morale.

"The fact that they even offered to short themselves probably spoke volumes to your soldiers and helped their morale during those hard times," Thundercracker thought back to the times when the Seekers had to make similar sacrifices, although Starscream seldom willingly allowed his own rations to be significantly shorted. Some had grumbled over the perceived selfishness, but Thundercracker and Skywarp had supported the decision knowing the Vision need to be as healthy as possible if he was to survive and raise their offspring.

"It did," Jazz agreed, then paused and looked the Seeker over. "I know Wing's field helps you recharge. If a second one would help more, I'm willing."

Thundercracker stopped himself from instinctively rejecting the offer outright. This was a member of his flock genuinely offering to help him, and it deserved a respectful answer, "Thank you, I will keep your offer in mind."

Jazz nodded and visibly changed his frame language and field from serious to the more usual cheerful. "How's your berth holding up?"

"A couple more pillows would be welcome if you can find some of good quality," Thundercracker said, allowing his own field to relax as they left the storage room. "The padding is still quite comfortable. You chose well when everything was installed, especially considering how quickly things had to be pulled together."

"Thanks," Jazz perked up with honest pleasure at the honest praise. "I'll keep an optic open."

* * *

Thundercracker backed away once Deadlock started to boot into consciousness. They weren't certain whether the Seeker's presence would antagonize the berserker, and neither he nor Jazz wanted to start this shift with a fight. Once Deadlock's optics flickered online, Thundercracker asked, "Are all your systems fully operational?"

"Yeah," the warrior grunted. "Hate stasis. Brainiac still down?"

"Prowl has not come out of stasis," Thundercracker ignored the nickname. It wasn't the worst thing he'd heard Deadlock call someone, and it could actually be viewed as almost a sign of affection from the grounder. "Please work to keep him that way."

"Hay, unless you want it bashed in, processor stuff isn't on me." Deadlock objected as he sat up and swung around to get to his pedes. "Jazz's job."

"I've got it," Jazz assured them both before it could get into an argument. "We've got high grade if you want to play."

"High grade's always good," Deadlock grunted as he started towards the door, ignoring the other two in stasis in the room. It was a little creepy looking at them lying there on the berths. "It in the viewing room?"

"Yap," Jazz's perky self was behind him, keeping just the right distance to be close without threatening. "There's fresh additives too. Even managed to make some goodies I like, though TC thinks they're questionably edible."

"Tart is one thing, but I don't see how anyone can eat something that sweet and sour," Thundercracker grumbled playfully. "I do appreciate the hard candies you found."

"At least you have some treats, and it's not like I was trained to make goodies. I just remember some things and we actually have the spare supplies that I can mess around with it," Jazz said as he flopped into his favorite chair while Thundercracker brought the energon, additives and goodies to the table between them. "Who goes first?"

"I will," said Thundercracker as he settled in his chair. "Deadlock, Truth or Dare?"

"Truth. That's the point, isn't it?" Deadlock sweetened his high grade lightly.

"Yes, but the option is always there," Thundercracker thought for a moment before starting with something nonthreatening. "What is your energon preference?"

"As hard as possible," he grinned at the Seeker. "So, Jazz, how many spikes have you taken in a single orn?"

"Let me think," he answered playfully before finally answering. "12 if we're talking different mechs and just valve."

"An' just counting spikes?" Deadlock grinned and took another drink, already displaying how little he cared about the rules on drinking.

"Can't honestly say," Jazz said with a shrug. "Lost count."

Deadlock gave him a grin that spoke as clearly as his field that he intended to try and best that despite it being impossible to beat 'unknown'.

"Your turn, Deadlock," Jazz said with a small smile after taking a drink. "Who do you find the most physically appealing of the team?"

The warrior grunted as he thought about that, then shrugged. "Whoever'll spread their legs. Thundercracker," he lifted his chin towards the Seeker. "Ever had a lover outside your trine?"

"Of course," Thundercracker answered with a shrug. "Seekers often take lovers outside their trine. I've had many Seeker lovers both before and during the war." After taking a drink he asked, "Deadlock, why did you follow Megatron?"

"Because he had a good idea and the strength to make it work," Deadlock answered far more quietly than either of the others expected, his manner utterly serious and honest grief evident in his field as he spoke of a living spark as if it was already departed. "He was a great mech."

"Until he went mad," Thundercracker agreed. "If Sentinel had listened to his grievances much of this war could have been avoided."

"The Senate wouldn't have let him even if he wanted to," Jazz said just as quietly. "Optimus shares the goals Megatron began with, but did not meet him in time to make it work. We really tried, but not even ISO could pull it off."

"ISO?" Deadlock looked at Jazz.

"Imperial Special Operations. What became Autobot SpecOps during the war when there was no empire left," Jazz explained with a sigh.

"Were you a commander in ISO?" Deadlock pressed cautiously into a section of information that even he knew was often best left alone.

Jazz looked at Deadlock for a long klik before shrugging and downing his cube, "When I left Cybertron I was Second in ISO. Not the DJD would have cared one way or another when they shot me down."

"No, they wouldn't," Thundercracker agreed. "Your public status as an Autobot and a command officer was more than enough."

"If you disagreed with what Sentinel was doing why'd you stay with them?" Deadlock asked.

"A lot of reasons, but the real one is loyalty to my mentor, my commander. He didn't agree either, but he was working inside the system to change it," Jazz admitted carefully. "Then Optimus came along and I saw hope for the first time in a public leader."

"You're mentor was naive or too idealistic if he thought working in that system could change things before a revolution happened," Deadlock growled. "Nothing else would have fixed the gutters in time to save the likes of me."

"Maybe not, but without Megatron the rebellion wouldn't have happened and our work would have. That a leader with enough charisma and battle sense arrived at the right place at the right time was a matter of luck," Jazz said pointedly. "Besides, you were out of the gutters and in a comfortable existence well before Megatron. Whether he fixed the gutters or we did, the results would have been the same to you."

Deadlock just grunted, unwilling to admit that Jazz had a bit of a point with his comment.

"Jazz, I believe it is your turn to ask a question," Thundercracker asked, trying to bring the tension down a bit.

Jazz nodded and hummed as he sipped his cube. "So, TC, share a memory of flight? _Real_ flight. Not what we did as Flightplan."

Thundercracker looked at Jazz for a moment and then nodded, offering a port to the pair of grounders. He searched out a memory of flight without combat or crashes but more than what he'd experienced on their stopovers. Just the pure rush of the air on his wings as he soared through the sky, the master of all he surveyed.

"Cool," Jazz perked up and quickly jacked in. Half to Thundercracker's surprise, he was extremely polite and not the least pushy despite how eager he was.

"I'll pass," Deadlock looked at them warily as Jazz's visor seemed to bleach out with a blissful expression as he immersed himself in the wing and cold and control.

"I could put together a set of memories of flight if you like. They could help you continue to work on the heights problem at your own pace," Thundercracker offered. It still bothered him that Flightplan had to cope with Deadlock's fear when the gestalt obviously loved flying.

~Maybe an early one, where you go from uncertain to sure,~ Jazz suggested despite how focused he was on the memory and reveling it in.

"Why not. It's not like I'll have much else to do," Deadlock agreed with a jerky nod.

"I'll have it ready for you before I go back into stasis," Thundercracker promised and made a note to do so as soon as he came out of recharge tomorrow. "Let Wing or I know when you are comfortable and ready for another. I'm certain he will be willing to help as well."

"No doubt. Helpful little creature," Deadlock snorted, though it held more tolerant amusement than irritation.

Watching Jazz soar with him so joyfully in the memory made Thundercracker queue up a second as the first ended. This one of the violence a peaceful Vos knew and reveled in. Jazz startled at the crack of lightning when the memory opened and looked around cautiously as he became ever more aware of the masses gathering around him. Even to that he felt no fear.

~Better than many mechlings on their first Rite,~ Thundercracker purred his approval.

~Probably because I know I won't crash,~ Jazz responded reasonably without hiding that the complement did mean something warming to him.

~True,~ Thundercracker acknowledged. Even so it was pleasurable to share such intrinsically Seeker experiences with someone who reveled in it, even when the memory began to show the stress of what a full length flight in the Rite of the Storm Flight. Even a strong Seeker in their prime felt the strain if they tried to remain aloft the entire orn. Even so, Jazz flew with him in the memory, accepting the trine space, the flock arrangement, the pride Thundercracker felt that he lasted so long.

It didn't come close to filling that missing part of him, but it felt right to have a flockmate that accepted and understood part of what it meant to be a Seeker. He offered, ~Our next shift together I could show you more flight memories, but for now we should probably shift focus before Deadlock gets bored.~

~I'd love that,~ Jazz's euphoric state rolled in with the glyphs even as he willingly backed into his own frame. "Thank you," he added quietly.

"You're welcome," Thundercracker replied, pleased he'd found something in common with the Autobot. Pausing to savor his drink, he decided to follow a different train of thought and asked, "Jazz, is there any music you don't enjoy?"

Jazz scrunched his face several ways, giving Deadlock something amusing to look while the Autobot thought. And thought. And thought some more.

"A long time ago there was this primitive organic race I was assigned to the world of after Dai Atlas conquered it. They made sounds and used things that translated as instruments, but in the hundred vorns I was there I never could make any sense of it.

"How old _are_ you?" Deadlock demanded.

"I met Nova Prime," Jazz answered smoothly.

"And Dai Atlas," Thundercracker half asked, half stated.

"I've seen him, handed him a datapad once, but I wouldn't say we met," Jazz shook his helm. "I can't imagine he'd actually remember me. I was no one back then. Just one of thousands of messengers he saw every vorn."

The idea that Jazz was that old was a bit surprising to Deadlock, but after a thought it sort of made sense. If he was really that high up in SpecOps he'd have to be good, and he'd probably have to survive a really long time to do everything Decepticon rumors claimed he'd done. Just because Jazz used Nova Prime as a reference didn't mean he wasn't older than that, but after another thought he decided not to push the age question any further right now. It was already longer than Deadlock could really understand.

Jazz turned back to Deadlock, "So, how many 'facing partners do you prefer at a time?"

"One," he shrugged. "I only have one spike. What about you?"

"Anywhere from one to three. Maybe more if I'm in the mood," Jazz said with a cheerful shrug, privately noting the confirmation of Deadlock's strong preference for spiking. It wasn't exactly an unusual thing for a former buymecha. They usually only went two ways. Complete slut or complete spike dominant. "I've got a spike, a valve and a mouth. Plus there's field play and a lot of other ways to get someone going."

"Three is best," Thundercracker purred with a deepening rumble. "Every way possible."

"No doubt," Jazz grinned, happy to agree with the Seeker. "So, Deadlock, whatcha think of bonding?"

"I always thought it was for optimistic fools. 'Course, I didn't expect to get stuck in a gestalt bond, so I was probably right," Deadlock grunted.

"Might well be in some places," Jazz nodded. "In safer ones the benefits outweigh the risks to those that get that far."

"All it means to me right now is that we're stuck together and can't kill each other. Maybe that's the benefit," Deadlock shrugged and grabbed another cube.

"True enough, given who we are," Jazz chuckled. "It would have been one pit of an ugly fight if we really had it out, no coding to stop us."

"After we took out the organics," Thundercracker added grimacing a bit at the imagined damage and destruction.

"It would have been fun," Deadlock countered with a grin.

"Yeah, but the cleanup wouldn't have been," Jazz agreed with them both.

"I don't clean up; I leave the chaos to show I've been there," Deadlock leaned back. "'Cracker, you ever willingly 'faced a grounder?"

The Seeker nearly lost the energon he'd consumed as his field flared with disgust-distress-horror.

"That would be no and never will," Jazz read the full depth of it easily.

"Everybody's got their preference," Deadlock tipped his cube in as close to an apology as he could, accepting the disgust as similar to his own regarding the thought to taking a spike.

"Yes," Thundercracker acknowledged. "Experience creates many strong preferences." He shivered his wings, dry swallowed once, then downed half his cube. "So Jazz, what's the most exotic thing you've done in interfacing?"

"The most exotic thing," Jazz thought for a long time. "Let's see, I've done organics, other mechanoids, Prime...."

" _Prime_?" Deadlock stared at him.

"Optimus," Jazz said with a shrug. "He's a mech with needs, and he loves making others feel good."

"The Prime ... interfaces?" Deadlock repeated as he tried to wrap his processors around the concept.

"You've been with Megatron," Thundercracker pointed out.

"Yeah, but he's a mech," Deadlock tried to explain.

"So is Optimus. He was a simpler mech called Orion Pax before the Matrix made him what he is now," Jazz was used to mecha reacting strongly to Prime and being awed by his presence, but it was always interesting to see how Decepticons viewed the living symbol of Primus.

While Deadlock thought about it, struggled with it, Thundercracker was thinking as well.

"How much is the mech and how much is the Matrix?" The Seeker eventually asked.

"It can be hard to separate Optimus from the aura of the Matrix some times, especially when you first meet him," Jazz thought about how to explain the difference. Wing's description of the Knights gave him a starting point. "The Matrix sometimes acts like an aggressive Great Sword."

"It keeps poking at him until he changes his mind?" Thundercracker asked cautiously.

"Yeah, or makes him feel uneasy about a choice or something. If you're skilled at reading fields you can teek how dominant it is in a given moment," Jazz nodded.

"And what sort of decisions does it support?" Thundercracker asked warily, thinking about some of the things past Primes had made.

"Most of what he says. It wants Cybertron to survive, recover and flourish again," Jazz shook his helm. "At one point it was an ill-kept secret that the last Prime to actually bond with the Matrix was Guardian Prime. I think most of the planet's forgotten that and what it means. Not that many are left that know the truth of it."

"There may be survivors who left with Dai Atlas who would know but you're right, most among the Decepticons have forgotten or never knew," Thundercracker settled a bit now that he understood that Nova and Sentinel were not examples of what the Matrix seemed to want. "Knowing and believing it would make some think about possibly listening to him, but Megatron is probably past that point."

"By the time Optimus was up to speed, yeah," Jazz sighed. "Though given how Megatron came to be, I'm not sure he ever could have listened to the government. I can't really blame him on that either. There's a lot of brutality and betrayal by those in power in that early history."

"It made him strong," Deadlock insisted.

"It did, and it made him distrustful for good reason," Jazz nodded.

"Power corrupts, especially when there is no balance in place," Thundercracker said quietly. "Whether that power is through dogma or brute strength, it seems to ultimately have the same result."

"And no one has come up with a system that really works. Some are far better than we've had, but nothing that really _works_. Those in power always seem to eventually be unable to be content with what they have," Jazz grumbled. 

"So what does Prime prefer, spike or valve?" Deadlock asked, interrupting the pair, halfway disbelieving that he was talking about the Prime like this.

"It's my turn to ask a question, 'Lock," Jazz snickered, the somber mood broken. "Wait your turn. Thundercracker, have you ever sky danced?"

"Professionally, no. In seriousness, yes. For fun, not since before I first trined," Thundercracker answered. "Jazz, do grounders have any equivalent to the announcement sky dance?"

"Depends on the grounders," Jazz said after some thought on all the customs he'd seen and experienced. "Different cities have rituals all their own. Praxians gave specific crystals to their intendeds. Towers mechs didn't bond for love; they had elaborate negotiations between families. Tyger Pax, on the rare occasion one of them had something that important to say, would give something hand crafted. Iacon had a promenade dance kind of thing. Before the gladiators took over, Kaonites gave specific mineral formations. After, I'm less sure," he looked at Deadlock.

"Don't look at me," Deadlock said with a shrug. "The streets didn't have the luxury of that kind of courting. You knew someone thought that you were special if you could recharge next to them without getting offlined or robbed."

Jazz nodded acceptance of that truth. "So Deadlock, Have you ever wanted to be more than someone's muscle?"

Deadlock toyed with his cube while he thought back, uncharacteristically quiet for a klik. "I might have fantasized about it a time or two, but let's face it. Muscle is what I'm good at, and it's kept me online for a long time."

"True enough. Might not be bad to revisit those ideas," Jazz suggested and finished off his cube before going for another.

"So what does Prime prefer, spike or valve?" Deadlock remembered his derailed question.

"Honestly? I never figured it out. I'm fairly sure he's like Prowl, a perfect switch. His preference is in what his lover wants," Jazz attempted to explain something that still didn't make that much sense to him. "Though I expect by now it's his valve. Not many are large enough to fill him."

After a thought, Thundercracker said with a bit of hesitation, "If that is the problem did he ever think to try two smaller partners at once?"

"Wouldn't give him the depth of penetration, but yeah, I'm fairly certain he has," Jazz nodded. "He doesn't get as much as he needs. He's terrible about accepting attention he's not sure is being offered to _him_ , rather than to the Prime. Mech's a bit of a self sacrificing masochist most orns, but if you want different from the previous couple, he's it."

"While it is important to know that things have changed with his ascension to Prime, it's probably too little too late at this point," Thundercracker sighed and finished off his cube. "The whole planet is falling apart and there's nothing the five of us can currently do about it. I doubt even Prowl can come with a solution that has a decent chance of working at this point. Especially now that the Autobots and Decepticons are both basically closed to us."

"Oh, Prowl has given a good dozen plans that would win the war over the vorns," Jazz snorted. "The Autobots still have them too. They just aren't anything Optimus will accept. Far too much collateral damage for him."

Thundercracker nodded, conceding the point. "The likelihood of those plans being accepted would decrease even further if Ultra Magnus had his way after learning of our gestalt."

"You're probably right. Those two really do hate each other like no two Autobots I know that aren't polar opposites. Probably the only case I know of where Prowl's pragmatic coding didn't win," Jazz admitted. "I don't know what happened, but they'd kill each other if given an opening."

Deadlock snorted, "Too many alphas fighting for top spot. Someone's gotta give and it ain't gonna be copbot. Not on his own turf."

"True enough, and with Optimus as Prime they were forcibly separated before it got to actual blows," Jazz agreed even if he wasn't sure if that was it. Prowl dealt with a lot of alpha personalities, and acquiesced to them when he saw they were right, but only Ultra Magnus created the kind of rage normally reserved for Starscream.

"Has Prowl ever had a reaction like that to any other tacticians?" Thundercracker asked, trying to understand the situation better since it might help predict Prowl's reactions to the leaders of Aelios. "It could be like Starscream's antipathy towards Shockwave and his scientific experiments. Few others in the Decepticon ranks can drive Starscream into that kind of frothing rage."

Jazz was still and sipped his energon as he thought hard about what he knew of internal dealings of the tactical division. "I don't think Prowl's ever been that bad towards anyone else, though I didn't really know him in Praxus. By the time we did more than cross paths the war had already scrambled him pretty badly. His rep says he's not one to lash out like that towards _anyone_ and that's what I've seen. The mech's middle management by coding. I'm sure it's part personal, part different tactical styles and part broken code in Prowl."

Thundercracker took in what Jazz was saying and what he knew of the other Autobot tactician's reputation. "And Ultra Magnus pushes and keeps the hostility going for his own reasons. Ultimately, the likelihood of Prowl having the same reaction to anyone once we're in Aelios is extremely slim."

"Definitely. It would take someone just as stubborn as he is that's an equal, or at least close to it, that doesn't agree with him on a fundamental level," Jazz agreed easily. "And with the gestalt bond he's even more unlikely to feel backed into a corner and alone than before, so less reason to lash out. What I can't even guess at is how he'll be after a reformat."

"Possibly a bit like Flightplan," Thundercracker said after some thought. "He'll start off with a lot of knowledge but limited experience, only he'll probably mature much faster since he will have more experience with the world in short order."

"Well, yes, that's true," Jazz agreed. "It's just not much help in guessing what kind of personality and quirks he'll have without his current life influencing it, or what changes they'll make when they do the reformat. The same base code produced both Prowl and Barricade, so Prowl could go just about any direction. Though I expect he'll veer towards logical and law abiding I don't actually know."

"With us to help guide him?" Deadlock laughed as he took a long drink. "Thundercracker's the closest to law abiding we've got. Wing's proven he won't follow the rules if he disagrees. He's bringing us back with him to a city that fled the war and is trying to hide from outsiders. You're SpecOps, and I'll follow the rules only if they make sense to me."

"True enough," Jazz chuckled. "It's hard to tell how he'll turn out. So, Deadlock, have you actually seen a sparkling in person?"

"From a distance," Deadlock said with a shrug. "Gutter trash were never allowed near any, and the circles I ran in later didn't really cater to them."

"Just something else we'll need to suss out when we get there," Jazz nodded and took a long drink. "We've all got blanks we need to fill in."

"What do you have to fill in?" Deadlock asked back with a snarl, irritated that he was the least educated and least likely to fit this new world they were hoping to join. Once again he'd be unwelcome and unwanted.

"How to exist as a civilian," Jazz answered calmly. "I went from the street to ISO. I can fake it pretty well, but I don't even begin to understand how to _exist_ as one of them. To not have powerful backup on demand. To not have a command officer to rely on for orders and protection. To not be _better_ than anyone I walked next to out there. I've never not been part of a powerful sub-culture."

"In some ways I have a similar problem to Jazz," Thundercracker admitted to Deadlock, remembering that he'd missed that earlier conversation. "I've always been in a position of dominance among Seekers, but here I will be starting from the bottom as an outsider. I will also have to relearn to function as a civilian, and worse, how to not be innately superior in a city of grounders," he made a face. "That one's got to be the worst. It's not a Seeker city."

Jazz nodded and his field licked out in sympathy. "Prowl's got a lot of coding that doesn't belong there. All five of us are ill-suited to Aelios' way of existence in one way or another."

"But it is the best alternative we have," Thundercracker sighed, swirling his high grade in his cube and contemplating the future. "We will adapt and adjust as we have already done. This is a gestalt of survivors."

"To the last," Jazz agreed completely. "We've all always found a way to survive and thrive matter what. Not even Prowl could calculate the odds each of us has beaten along the way."

"We'll push our way through this," Deadlock lifted his cube and nodded towards the others. "Nobody's keeping us down for long."

"So, Thundercracker, what are you hoping for in a flock or trine?" Jazz asked after a moment of trying to trace who's turn it was and giving up.

"A trine who will accept my unique flock and be willing to accept that all of you will be involved in our lives and sparklings," Thundercracker shrugged. "We will find our gestalt bond strengthening as the vorns pass, and it is unrealistic to expect us to live separately once we are established."

"Which means living somewhere close to at least three and probably four districts," Jazz said thoughtfully. "Probably somewhere not exactly right for anyone, but close enough for it to work for everyone."

"Three or four?" Deadlock prodded.

"Well, Wing is locked into where the Knights live. Thundercracker needs to be close to other Seekers. Neither of those are really up for debate. Prowl's probably going to need to be near the Praxian district. You and I are more flexible in where we live, but what we end up doing for our credits could pull the joint residence in another direction. And that's before you take into account any restrictions they put on us in the first few centuries." Jazz explained.

"We'll have to tow the line for a long time before we get turned loose if it ever happens. I don't expect it to happen," Deadlock grunted pessimistically. "I don't really care where I live as long as I can be comfortable."

"Same here," Jazz agreed. "That said, I'm not keen on a long commute to work either. Just saying it'll be complicated to find one tower that works for us all."

"I expect that we will eventually search out somewhere for all of us and my trine to live even if it takes a lot of effort to make it work," Thundercracker shifted on his seat. "Deadlock, what do you want to do with the rest of your life?"

"Survive a lot of it," he shrugged. "No abuse, good energon and some luxuries are a plus. What of you, Jazz?"

"I'm thinking about trying entertainment. I'm good at dancing and enjoy music, so I think that is going to be a good place to start before branching out and finding my niche," Jazz said after a bit of thought.

"How much undercover did you do before the war?" Thundercracker suddenly asked. "The kind where you have a function in the civilian world."

"Not as much as you probably think. I spent a lot of time in the government playing messenger and monitoring situations before the war," Jazz said. "Most of my undercover work has been with the Decepticons, although I played Neutral on many occasions it was still during wartime. I've been a musician and performer, so I know I'm at least reasonably competent with it. I don't know if I'm good enough to make it in this city."

Thundercracker's wings shifted slightly in his curiosity. "How close have you been to the Decepticon command officers undercover?"

"I avoided Soundwave and Shockwave as much as possible," Jazz said with a small shiver. "Soundwave was too high a risk, and Shockwave was just too creepy. Never been too close to you and your former trine, but I've made past acquaintance with some of the grounders ranked below you."

"I can't say I blame you on those two," Thundercracker's wings gave a shiver. "Though I always found Soundwave more disturbing than dangerous. I don't know where Shockwave was dredged up from, but I wish he'd been left there. Mech's as crazy as he is loyal. Soundwave's just loyal."

"Yeah, but he had a chance of spotting me undercover with that telepathy of his. Best to avoid the risk," Jazz pointed out.

"For you, definitely," Thundercracker had no issue agreeing. "For loyal Decepticons, even those with issues like I did, he was no danger."

"Did?" Deadlock focused on him.

"I'm not a Decepticon anymore," he shrugged.

"And I'm not an Autobot," Jazz nodded, understanding Thundercracker's point and wanting to drive it home for both sides to Deadlock. "We can't go back to Cybertron, and we can't fight each other. Those labels don't apply to us anymore, not really."

Deadlock grunted. "Only Wing gets to be what he's chosen to be."

"Yes, but the war helped shape our previous choices. Now we all get a chance to choose to be something else," Thundercracker pointed out.

Another grunt and Deadlock tipped back his almost full cube before grabbing another. "So Thundercracker, are the rumors of Starscream and Megatron true?"

"Yes, although I don't pretend to understand it," Thundercracker didn't try to hide his own distaste for the idea. "He both hates and is obsessed with Megatron."

"I can see the obsession," Deadlock chuckled. "He's _amazing_ in the berth."

"Megatron will take a spike?" Jazz couldn't help his surprise.

"No. For him I did. And his spark," a shiver from good memories passed through Deadlock's frame.

"You may have enjoyed it and welcomed the attention, but Starscream likes to provoke him to a rage before they interface," Thundercracker couldn't comprehend the attraction to the violence, and he'd occasionally worried that the Vision would be permanently injured. Unfortunately he hadn't been in a position to do much to stop the strange pair.

"That I'd never understand either," Deadlock agreed. "He was considerate in a good mood, but what he did to put someone in their place..." he shivered. "I think Turmoil took lessons from him."

"Nah, Turmoil took lessons from someone much more skilled in using interfacing for punishment," Jazz said casual.

"Know who?" Deadlock was suddenly interested.

"Same one who trained me, my boss," Jazz lolled his helm upside down over the arm of the chair. "I'm still not sure whether to be relieved or upset when he defected to the rebellion."

"Why?" Thundercracker frowned.

"Because with him we might just have ended things before Optimus came around. Mech's a Prowl with an ISO upbringing and military training. Only thing that kept him from advancing further was being as bad as Prowl in the interpersonal department," Jazz explained.

"I'm glad I never got on your old boss's bad side then," Deadlock freely admitted. Turmoil had been bad enough.

"How did Prowl advance as far as he did with his limited interpersonal skills? I know he's one of the best at tactical, but by your own admittance so is Ultra Magnus," Thundercracker asked as he searched his memories trying to match up Jazz's description with those he knew in the Decepticons.

"Ultra Magnus isn't exactly an improvement on social skills," Jazz pointed out. "It's a war-time thing, a department thing and an Optimus thing. Turmoil was blocked from advancing by his own department and ISO has always required advanced social skills in its command officers. When you deal with broken, cracking or suicidal agents every orn, being able to talk one down it critical. By the time Sonar was removed, Optimus was in charge of the army and saw no reason to block Prowl's advancement. Of the many things Prowl is, he's also very loyal and obedient to his commander. Optimus gave him restrictions and whenever possible Prowl complied, so to Optimus Prowl was all things good. He didn't see a need for every command officer to be social. That's what he had me for."

"Is your commander in SpecOps less social than you are? Or are you the openly social officer for the troops?" Thundercracker asked. He could see Jazz's point about SpecOps not being a good place to have Turmoil in command. Honestly, the mech had no business being in charge of anyone, but, like too many commanders in the Decepticons, he had gained his rank through guile and force.

"Mmm, a different kind of social. I'm the kind that can rub elbows with a grunt and not have them go all officer on deck. He's the kind that can make you beg to extinguish, to give up your dearest secrets to and then you trust him to help you up to your pedes. He's ISO social. I'm general population social," Jazz tried to explain.

"Makes sense to have both of you in charge then," Deadlock grunted. "You find out through gossip what he doesn't need to bother finding out through interrogation. Turmoil is neither; he's just sadistic."

"I'm his SIC, the public face so to speak. I'm no more his equal than any SIC," Jazz said carefully. "A lot of folks forget that I have a commander besides Optimus. Which is the way we like it. But I never forget that I wasn't the final voice for SpecOps. And I was far from the only one who's charged with keeping up to date on the common mecha. Just the best known one. The Autobots will recover from my loss much faster than Prowl's."

"You are a highly skilled saboteur; Deadlock is a dangerous berserker. Prowl's loss turns the Autobot's tactical department on end; my loss throws the Seekers into chaos by disrupting Starscream's house of cards," Thundercracker summed up before downing the rest of his cube. "Both sides have been dealt severe setbacks by this turn of events. It would almost be interesting to see how things eventually turn out, but I doubt we'll ever know."

"I'm planning to last long enough to," Jazz grinned with a slightly unhinged look. "Isolationist governments all eventually reach out again when they feel safe enough to do so. I plan to be there for it."

"That would be a reason for Dai Atlas to either speak with us once we arrive or have a trusted underling do the interrogation," Thundercracker agreed. "We are his most recent available sources of information on the status of Cybertron. They must be curious about the status of their original home even if they won't publicly admit it."

"I would think so," Jazz agreed. "And I, for one, don't intend to rust coat it. Though I'm not going to brag about my part in the mess, I won't lie about it either if they ask."

"Lying would be pointless and counterproductive," Thundercracker agreed. "Our honesty and usefulness need to be laid out immediately if we are to eventually gain any sort of trust from them."

"Not like I have anything to rust coat," Deadlock shrugged.

"All we can do now is hope for the best," Thundercracker stood unsteadily and tipped his wings to the pair. "I intend to recharge now. Please use a different berth room for your fun."

"Of course," Jazz said cheerfully before turning a hungry look on Deadlock. "Burn off some charge before recharge?"

"If you think you can handle me," Deadlock growled as he stood and stalked towards Jazz.

Thundercracker tuned the pair out as he headed towards Wing's berth to recharge again tonight. Silent company was better than none.


	4. Shift 4: Jazz/Deadlock

Jazz twirled the small knife in his hand as he waited for Deadlock to stalk into the viewing room after his shift. They were both starting to become a bit restless since Thundercracker had gone in stasis seven orns ago, and the next available stopover was still another six orns out. A bit of fun would help them pass the time and give him a chance to show off some of his skills outside the berth that Deadlock might find useful. Without looking he knew the instant Deadlock spotted the knife on his way in and knew without teeking that the warrior's focus had abruptly shifted from 'facing to weapons. It was one of Deadlock's better traits as far as Jazz was concerned. The mech was one of simple desires and little ability to fixate.

"Relax, mech. I just want to play a little game if you're interested," Jazz grinned as the knife continued to twirl between his fingers. "We don't have to if you don't think you can handle it."

"I can handle anything," Deadlock puffed up as his optics narrowed. "What's the game?"

Jazz grinned, spinning the knife in his right hand before slipping it up under his left armor plate, "See if you can find the knife."

"I saw where it went," Deadlock scowled and stalked over.

"Did you? Or did you see where I wanted you to think it went?" Jazz just smiled back. "Maybe you should search for it?"

"I'll try not to do too much damage," Deadlock growled and went right for where he had seen Jazz slip the blade.

Jazz kept his own impulsive reaction in check as the Decepticon grabbed his arm. He knew he was pushing things between them acting like this, but he was curious to see how this could actually go before one of them got hurt. It was different feeling Deadlock's fingers grope around the edges of his armor when they weren't interfacing. "You find it yet?" he asked cheerfully.

"No," Deadlock growled with a frustrated flare in his field as he continued to search along the arm and continued to resist tearing Jazz's armor off.

"You want to know where it is?" Jazz asked. This was supposed to ultimately be fun and teach the other grounder a trick or two not drive Deadlock crazy.

With a huff Deadlock stepped back. "Okay, where?"

"Here," Jazz reached further down his arm from where Deadlock had been searching and pulled the blade out from beneath the armor near his wrist. "You were pretty close. Want to try again?"

Deadlock cocked his helm and nodded, accepting the challenge with anticipation that brightened his optics. To Jazz, it was exactly what he wanted to do. So long as Jazz kept paying attention, Deadlock was likely to continue to see this as a game, a playful challenge much like when Jazz dared him to 'face him intro recharge.

"Alright, keep your optics on the knife and see if you can follow where it goes," Jazz said as he spun it in his left hand. Once he was certain he had Deadlock's complete attention focused on it, he slipped it down along his left leg before moving across his knees and back around his right one before stopping with both empty hands near his hips. "Where is it?"

Deadlock's first reflex was to go for the back of Jazz's right leg, and he worked the upper leg, his fingers pressing in along the edges of the armor, searching for what he was sure was there.

Jazz stayed still while Deadlock was touching his armor, taking note of the thoroughness and effectiveness of the search effort. He wasn't bad at it and would probably find most mech's hidden weapons, but it was obvious he'd rarely if ever run into someone with Jazz's skills. As Deadlock shifted his attention to Jazz's left leg, he lifted his armor up a fraction to give him better access. It was also a reminder that this was for fun and shouldn't result in any damage.

The search, so early on and with no pointers given yet, gave Jazz a look into the mech that everyone wrote off as a dumb brute with a gift for violence and blasters. He had to wonder if even Deadlock realized he actually had a pretty good processor in his helm and the ability to be methodical. It might not be something he did consciously, but it was definitely there. While waiting for Deadlock to finish his search Jazz took note of all the spots he found as well as those he missed. Once he was done searching through his legs, Jazz asked with a soft purr, "Are you done or should I wait while you keep looking? It feels good either way."

Deadlock growled in frustration and surged to his pedes. "So where'd you put it."

Jazz reached beneath his left hand near the wrist and slipped the blade out from the armor. Handing it to Deadlock he asked, "You want to learn how it's done?"

Jazz teeked the reflexive no and a sensation that Deadlock felt it was cowardly, but then the scowl deepened for a moment.

"Yes," Deadlock seemed to force himself to say.

"We'll start with hiding things on a frame, then we'll work our way up to the kind of tricks I just showed you," Jazz said cheerfully, happy that Deadlock was willing to learn even if he was reluctant about it. Tapping the armor on his arm and widening the gap as far as possible without removing it, he extended his arm out and said, "First, let's start with your knowledge of your armor. You know the spots that have gaps between the armor and protoform like this one. Those are the initial hiding places."

"I know armor," Deadlock grinned devilishly, but his optics were sharp and focused on what Jazz was doing. "Those are the spots to dig into to rip it off if you haven't broken it yet."

"Yeah," Jazz agreed. "that's why later on we'll work on finding other spots that are less vulnerable to detection or removal for you to use." Pulling another blade out from under his right shoulder he held it near the one in Deadlock's hand. "Easiest things to hide are small and slender which is why knives and credsticks are popular choices. Also the closer the material is to your frame's composition the harder it is to detect by scanning. I've played with your frame enough while we were interfacing to have a good idea where to start hiding things on you, but what do you think are some good starting points?"

"For a weapon?" Deadlock asked to buy himself time to think. He hid credsticks, energon and drugs, but not with the intent to smuggle. It was self-preservation to keep your things yours and that meant hard to steal. But weapons he always carried proudly and openly as his second line of defense, right after his reputation.

Jazz nodded and gave him time to process the new idea. It wasn't just about where it was easy to hide, it was also about easy to reach in a fight, at least for the first couple blades.

After another moment Deadlock tapped the outside of his forearms. "Lower legs too."

"Good starting points, you should also be able to eventually reach them if you're bound," he agreed, pleased that Deadlock was adjusting quickly to this new way of thinking. It was another good sign of the adaptability he'd need in their new home. "Now that you've got that foundation, there are other places you can use as well. They won't be as easy to reach, but others won't immediately go for them when searching. Where else could you conceal a blade this size?"

"Maybe eight places in my chassis, lower back plates, collar, upper arms, abdominal plates ... just about anywhere but hands, helm and neck," Deadlock said, thinking as he spoke. "Not sure how most would be useful, but it'd fit."

"They're all good spots if you know you're going to be searched before going somewhere," Jazz nodded, pleased with the analysis and conclusions. "They also give you weapons if you're captured and disarmed. It's a lot easier to fight your way out with a blade, even a small one." Jazz slowly slid the blade in his hand under the exposed gap in his armor letting Deadlock observe the blade settle into position. "I've got spots all over my frame where I can hide things 'cause you never know what will be useful. You want to try?"

"Yeah, sure," he nodded. Doubtful or not of this skill's use, he wasn't about to ignore a way to be armed. So he watched carefully as Jazz took the blade out and slid it in a second time, then made the careful shift of his armor and nudged the weapon in. It didn't want to fit and before Jazz could stop him energon began to drip from the opening.

"Okay, let's get that taken care of and try something else," Jazz reached over to check the damage and see if it needed patching. It wasn't too unexpected given they were just starting out and playing with knives, but it was a tad annoying to have happen this quickly. Fortunately Deadlock wasn't one he expected to get too upset and quit at the sight of his own energon or the pain involved in the nick.

"It's already sealed," Deadlock insisted as he palmed the blade and licked the energon from his arm. "Tighter fit than I thought."

"Hmm, maybe we should try a different blade or a different spot. Although that would be a good spot to conceal something since most who examine it won't think anything will fit," Jazz reached up and pulled a smaller blade, more of a stiletto without much of a cross guard, out of his collar.

Deadlock assessed it for weapon value on reflex. "I can do more with my fist," he said even as he took it and gave the more traditional dagger back.

"It might not do as much damage but it can be thrown which is a big plus. Also this gives us something to practice with until you've had more practice and we can switch back to the others," Jazz said as he slipped one blade back under his wrist, keeping the other out for more demonstrations.

"Throwing knives?" Deadlock paused in his effort to slip the slender bit of metal under his armor and looked at Jazz.

Jazz nodded and looked over at the interior wall for a moment, "One of the handier things to keep hidden actually. You know, we could probably set up a target on the wall and practice if you're interested. We might need to pick up a few things on a stopover to use as targets, but it shouldn't do too much damage if we miss."

"Never hurts to know another weapon," Deadlock grunted and went back to wiggling the slender blade under his armor. It wasn't a fast process and his engine was growling by the time it disappeared from view, but as the armor settled he teeked decidedly pleased.

"Especially one that helps work on targeting when we can't practice shooting often. Wing especially could use the help and aiming at targets seems to be easier for him." Jazz agreed, privately pleased he'd found something else Deadlock seemed interested in learning. Leaning forward, he examined Deadlock's arm. "Good job, most mechs would take one look at your armor and check elsewhere for weapons. Now try pulling it out without hurting yourself too badly."

The big warrior nodded and angled his arm as the armor came loose again. Jazz knew before it finished moving that the angle wasn't right, but it was respectably close for a first try. He remained silent as Deadlock fiddled with the angle and working to knock the blade out rather than take it out. The warrior knew his frame and knew physics intuitively and it didn't take long before the stiletto slid from his arm. With one quick move it was in Deadlock's hand.

"Practice that for a while and you'll be able to take someone out before they know what hit them," Jazz nodded approvingly and got a grin in reply. "Hiding a blade in your legs isn't much different from the arm. Let me take a look at your upper arm a moment and see if what we have on hand will fit without too much damage. We should probably try acquiring some more blades along the way. We're the best in this unit at handling the less savory areas of a port."

"No doubt," Deadlock chuckled. "Thundercracker would be if he went out, but he can't."

"Unfortunately, he'll attract the wrong sort of attention anywhere we go right now," Jazz agreed. "I know he gets a bit bored being stuck on ship while I'm out in the port."

"I bet," Deadlock nodded and held still for Jazz's examination. "I'd hate it too."

Jazz took a long moment to inspect the frame underneath the armor plates, comparing the gap he found to the different blades he currently possessed. Resting his fingers lightly on a spot halfway down from Deadlock's shoulder, he observed, "If you're careful the stiletto shouldn't do any damage to your cabling as long as you avoid poking it up past this point or it might nick something somewhat important. I definitely need to find you some thinner throwing blades to carry around though."

Deadlock nodded and paid careful attention to where Jazz pointed. Then the stiletto was pushed in slowly, the warrior keenly aware of just how many important and crippling lines and gears were near his under shoulder joint.

Jazz watched his actions closely, ready to stop the lesson the instant it looked like Deadlock was going to be injured beyond their capabilities to repair. However Deadlock once again proved an adept pupil with a solid sense of his own frame and managed to insert the blade with minimal damage. Jazz inspected the arm again once he had finished. "Nicely done."

The proud teek they both pretended wasn't there was still noted by Jazz. It was good to know he responded to praise so well. It'd make teaching go that much better. "So let's get that one out and see about your legs."

Deadlock nodded and took the stiletto out with more confidence than the last time, though it was still careful.

"Try it again then I'll check it's safe to practice on your abdominal plates. You're a lot more heavily armored than most SpecOps even if I tell you it's safe take your time," Jazz cautioned.

* * *

Jazz wandered around the cluttered shop, keeping the small organic shopkeeper occupied so it wouldn't bother Deadlock too much. The bright green arachnid skittered along the edge of the shelf near his elbow, pointing out one treasure after another. Privately, Jazz thought most of the objects looked like something only a Junkion would love, but he'd found useful parts in worse places in the past. At least there were no random fluids spilled on the merchandise in here.

Deadlock had found something, though the half glance hadn't told Jazz exactly what. It was some kind of part, but to who knew what. Well, Deadlock apparently knew, or saw something of value in it anyway. Turning back to his shelves, Jazz spotted a chunk of something that was likely useless, but was made of nice quality aberitol. He snapped that up and into his basket it went. Melted down it would be worth a small fortune on any mechanical world.

The shopkeeper chittered and scrambled up a shelf following Jazz as he walked down the row. Scanning the piles, Jazz picked up a broken plate before adding it to his basket. It looked to be mostly copper and would cost less than buying the already ground minerals at a dealer. He could use it for his treat-making experiments.

As they finished their aisles they came together, glanced at each other's basket and didn't even wait to reach the front to begin negotiations. Once they reached the front of the store the shopkeeper pulled objects from both baskets and began tallying things up. Deadlock's growl did seem to speed things up a bit and eventually they settled on an acceptable price. It wrapped their purchases in webbing and shooed them out the door.

"I heard there's a bar here that serves Engex, maybe even Nightmare," Jazz grinned at his companion. "We've got the credits for a few rounds."

"And fun tonight?" Deadlock raised an optic ridge at him suggestively.

"If we keep the drinking to a couple cubes," Jazz nodded with a grin. He kept an optic out for any potential partners as they headed off towards the bar. Most of the potential partners he spotted along the way were rejected immediately without even needing to approach them. Organics weren't worth the effort and wouldn't satisfy either of them. Mechanoids were rare, but as they got close to the bar that served energon he finally spotted one. He wasn't entirely sure it was for hire but kept the location in mind in case they didn't have better luck inside, a place he knew would have buymecha and regular patrons looking for some no-wires-attached action.

The bar was dark and a crowded with a large variety of clientele, most of whom were clustered around the bar and a few gambling tables off to the side. As he followed Deadlock through the crowd to the bar Jazz spotted organics and mechanoids of a variety of species, although he didn't see any of their previous owners' species present and he didn't see any Cybertronians, or and transforming mecha either. Still, between the dozen or so mechanoids around he knew they'd leave with company.

"I hear you stock nightmare fuel," Deadlock grinned at the bartender.

The bartender looked them over and stared at Deadlock's concealed hood, sizing them up and likely trying to work out their species, or at least species category. "16 port credits a cube," the large mechanoid about the size of Ironhide grunted, seemingly unimpressed by the pair.

Jazz ran a quick conversion on the price; it wasn't great but wouldn't break the bank.

"One for me, Engex for him," Deadlock jerked his helm towards Jazz and handed twenty port credits over.

After palming the credits, the bartender turned and filled both cubes. He slapped both down in front of them before turning to a trio of organics further down the bar.

Jazz took a sip of his Engex, testing it out for contaminants before swallowing. Everything seemed clean so far. Deadlock wasn't nearly as careful, which Jazz took as a mark of the trust the warrior had in him. As reckless as Deadlock was he was also a street mech and a survivor. There was no way he'd get overcharged if he didn't feel he had backup who could protect his back.

With the dangerously potent nightmare fuel half gone, Deadlock turned his gaze on the working patrons and shifted his frame in an open invitation that Jazz knew well from his times as a buymech. Yes, half the signals were hidden by their clocks, but between what they were drinking and what did show it would be more than enough to attract the attention they wanted.

After a few moments a gray and blue mechanoid slightly smaller than Jazz slipped through the crowd, obviously sizing up Deadlock. "New in port and looking for some fun?"

"Yes," Deadlock nodded, sizing up the offering mechanoid and finding him agreeable. "Haven't had a playmate to share in far too long."

While Deadlock and the buymecha talk, Jazz focused on a large organic making easy progress around the tables towards the bar with a datapad he was showing any who would look. It screamed bounty hunter to him, but he forced himself to remember that a sizable portion of the population of every spaceport was wanted by someone, somewhere, and a bounty hunter didn't mean _them_.

Still, it paid to be cautious. As the avian made his way closer to them, he glanced down at his datapad whenever a new mechanoid came into view, and Jazz noted he was paying particular attention to groups of mechanoids. There was always the possibility he was looking for the thieves Prowl and Wing had mentioned hearing about at the first stop, but Jazz didn't think they'd get that lucky this far out.

"Find a friend who can handle us," Deadlock instructed the buymech. "Have a preferred room?"

"The Molten Alloy has rooms available, and I can have someone there in half a cycle," the buymech purred, teeking pleased the pair wanted another partner. It might be a little less up front profit for him, but it'd be safer given he was dealing with two unknown partners.

"You," the avian called out to Jazz as he shoved the rest of the way through the crowd. "Have you seen these criminals?"

"Just in pictures," Jazz lied easily. "Half dozen folks have asked about them for the last three ports."

"You certain?" Ignoring the buymech, the bounty hunter stared suspiciously at the robed pair, trying to get a look at their faces. "There's five of them, and they're listed as extremely dangerous."

"So are half the beings in this room," Jazz shrugged and stepped away, quietly noting that Deadlock was moving to follow him.

The bounty hunter pressed forward, continuing to push closer to Jazz and block him from leaving. He announced, "These criminals are Cybertronians. They're too dangerous to leave loose in the space lanes." There was a bit of a murmur as those he hadn't already approached realized who he was chasing.

"So what'd they do?" Jazz asked with a small motion to keep Deadlock from moving forward with his plan to fling the organic through a wall.

"They attacked and destroyed a research center at a colony killing over forty inhabitants," the bounty hunter announced drawing even more murmurs from the crowd.

"Who's colony?" Jazz pressed, his voice still light and unconcerned despite how he knew the next breem would end.

"The Nijihito," he announced, naming off the race that had abused all of Jazz's unit and caused the mess they were currently trying to resolve. "Their colony world Kessai was attacked without provocation."

"Biggest slavers in this galaxy," Jazz snorted. "No thanks. They earn what they get."

The avian snapped an arm forward and grabbed Jazz's robe trying to pull off his hood, "You sound and look mechanoid but not local, stranger who's hiding his face. Let's see what species you are."

The move distracted Jazz enough that he didn't realize Deadlock had launched forward until it was too late and abruptly the organic was flying towards the door and the bigger warrior was dragging Jazz towards the door at a fast stalk and a fully violent field.

The mood in the bar had shifted a lot during their debate especially when the Nijihito were mentioned, but Deadlock's attack had everyone scattering. The buymech they'd been talking to had disappeared along with almost every other one present. The bounty hunter scrambled to his feet, flaring his wings in front of the door the pair were headed towards. "You're part of my quarry," he screeched at the others in the room. "This is my bounty."  
   
"Only if you..." Deadlock snarled before Jazz cut him off.

"No fighting. He's just doing his job," Jazz insisted.

"You're coming with me," the bounty hunter insisted, pulling two pairs of cuffs off his belt.

Deadlock stared at Jazz like he'd fried a circuit before taking the subtle hint to check their surroundings. The biggest muscle in the room was all aiming at them ready to attack. Sure, the two Cybertronians could probably take out everyone here, but the ruckus would stir up even more attention that would head straight for their ship and the currently undefended members of their unit.

The avian cuffed Deadlock first, then the far more cooperative Jazz, then chained them together. There's be no transforming like this, or even running separate directions. Then the chain was secured to the avian's belt and he closed a clawed hand around it. "Come on."

Once they were safely confined some of the crowd started jeering at them. A few seemed almost disappointed there hadn't been a real fight, although the bartender seemed just as happy to see things handled so calmly.

As they headed out the door trailing slightly behind the bounty hunter, Deadlock quietly tested his bindings. They were of almost embarrassingly average quality and made it obvious a few key pieces of information had been left out of the wanted notice. It was enough to help him relax as he recognized their destination as the short term docking port.

Jazz's field reached out to Deadlock's, meshing and doing a good job of expressing _calm_. Deadlock flared back with _ready_.

Ready for anything, anytime, anywhere.

Complete cooperation by both of them would put the bounty hunter on edge so a couple of times near the beginning of the trek Deadlock made a few deliberately ineffective tugs on the chains. He subsided into what appeared to be sullen submission by the time they reached the waiting ship.

"Time to put you in lockdown and find the rest of the escapees," their captor fluffed his wings at the thought of the waiting payout. The door to his ship closed behind them and Deadlock saw Jazz make short work of his cuffs. Two steps further in and Jazz slipped out of line to lunge forward. Their captor barely had time to squawk a single note before his head snapped off.

"Damn, they make a mess," Deadlock scowled as the body bled out. He tossed the chains on top of the body.

"Yeah, they do," Jazz nodded and stepped over the mess. "Let's clear the ship."

"I'll lead the way," Deadlock grinned, stepping over the mess as he headed further into the ship. Even though he wanted to rip through the place and tear anyone he found to shreds, Deadlock reminded himself they needed to be quiet right now. Their unit was depending on them to neutralize this threat and do so in a way that didn't attract any attention.

A door just ahead of him opened and a voice called out, "You actually found two of them on this scrapheap?"

Deadlock rushed the room, hand out and spread to grab and rend anything not Jazz that was living. The brighter colored avian was too surprised by the attack to fight back effectively. Deadlock was spattered with organic fluids as he ripped its arm off to keep it from grabbing the blaster on its belt. The mess was annoying but also helped satisfy the long denied desire to tear their captors apart. Grabbing its head and tearing it off silenced the annoying screeching and unleashed a massive amount of spurting fluids. It satisfied the spark-deep needs he'd had to deny for metacycles now and left him feeling pleasantly buzzed.

::Front half is clear,:: Jazz pinged him.

::One carcass found,:: he commed back as he scanned the room for any more movement or other life signs. Not seeing any other targets he left the room and headed over to check the other door he'd seen. It opened to the engine room and Deadlock moved carefully through it, the second organic's blaster in hand. ::Back half is clear.:: He finally reported to Jazz.

::Good. See if you can find something useful as a disguise for me. I need to look like one of their crew when I head back to out ship.:: Jazz replied.

::I'll check storage and find the weapon locker on this wreck,:: Deadlock said as he headed off, leaving the computers to the expert. The organic's consumables wouldn't be useful except as trade stock or maybe bribes, but you never knew what tidbits might be stashed around. It didn't take him long to stumble across the berth room and a few useful weapons. He subspaced the trio of blasters and also snatched up a few knives. They were a bit smaller than Jazz's set, but they might work as back-ups. He also found a few more articles similar to what the bounty hunter had been wearing in a storage locker. Slightly satisfied, he contacted Jazz with a report, ::Found some fabric that should fit you. Do I need to de-wing a corpse or do you have another plan?::

There was a pause before Jazz answered. ::I'll do it. I expect I have significantly more experience with precise butchery than you.::

::Precise, yeah,:: Deadlock gave the SpecOps mech that. ::How am I going back?::

::You're flying this one out to a meeting point where we can strip it carefully. I want to be out of this port ASAP.::

::Let's get coordinates straight and get out of here. We'll probably want to hold off on visiting ports for a while to throw anyone else off our trail,:: Deadlock grumbled. He was glad they'd gotten their shopping out of the way already but wasn't pleased about missing what had looked like a good bit of fun here.

::Come up to the control room,:: Jazz instructed. ::We'll make sure you can fly this thing and then I'll work up my disguise and get our team out.::

Deadlock grabbed the outfits before heading up to the control room. Once inside, he passed them over to Jazz before settling in the pilot seat and taking a look at the controls. After a few checks he nodded, "Doesn't look too different from other ships I've piloted. I can at least get it out of port and to a rock somewhere close."

"Good. That's all we need. I'm planning to boot Wing and TC up for the strip and transfer. The more hands we have for that the faster it'll go," Jazz nodded as he sorted through the clothing he'd been brought. "These'll work. How different did the second one look?"

"The other one is brighter colored and a bit smaller, closer to your size actually. Good idea getting them up; especially if anyone decides to follow us," Deadlock started checking charts to see what was close and where the bounty hunters had been.

"I'll use its wings then. Know how to modulate your voice to sound like the dark one?" Jazz asked as he got ready to head towards Deadlock's kill.

"I can fake it close enough to get us out of here. Looks like this was one of their first times stopping here so it won't be familiar to anyone," Deadlock shifted his voice into a passable imitation of the organic.

"Excellent. I'll give you a ping before I leave. Anyone with a clue will be expecting our ship to follow this one out, so let's not disappoint," Jazz said before slipping away.

* * *

After triple-checking to make certain no one was following them, Deadlock waited until Jazz had landed on the rocky moon before settled down relatively close to their ship. This ship was smaller and a bit more maneuverable but he was itching to get back into their own ship and leave the stench of the organics behind. Even after dumping the bodies into a strong gravity well to burn up in a gas giant's atmosphere, the ship still reeked of them.

He couldn't be surprised when Thundercracker was the first out of their ship and skyside almost as fast. Even in stasis the Seeker probably knew he was inside.

::All's well over there?:: Wing pinged him as he and Jazz stepped out of the ship and walked towards the smaller one.

::Yeah, let's strip this down and get out of here,:: Deadlock headed down to meet them at the door. ::I did a bit of looking while Jazz was heading over to get you so some of its already sorted. These two had a lot of weird stuff though.::

"To be expected. They're organics," Jazz said with a bit of a grin as they stepped inside. "Still, spare parts, fuel, metals, lubricant, and some parts are useful for us or resale."

"What?" Wing pointed to the dark stain on the floor and splatter on the walls.

"Organics die _messy_ ," Jazz shrugged. "These two were no exception."

Wing stared at the stains, trying to reconcile this kind of brutality with his own code. The idea that one of his unit had known how to _wear_ pieces of an organic being's frame as a disguise was incredibly disturbing. He reminded himself that these bounty hunters would have taken them back to the Nijihito and even worse conditions than they'd previously endured. Hopefully this was the only time something of this nature would be necessary, and he knew this event was something he was going to avoid mentioning to anyone back home. Fortunately his gestalt mates seemed to have similar common sense when it came to talking about their past deeds. "Let's get started. Thundercracker said he'd get started transferring fuel while we work in here."

"Not a bad idea," Deadlock gave a wolfish grin. "They were pretty well armed. Blasters and blades and something that uses pellets that I haven't found yet. Some medical we can use and lots of padding. Plus the usual smattering of hard currency."

"Hard currency and padding will always be welcome," Wing agreed, as he started heading for the engine room. "I'll figure out what we can strip from the engine room. Are we going to leave this ship here or dump it back in the gas giant? Too bad it won't fit in our ship."

"And it's too risky to tow it," Jazz agreed. "I was thinking we dump it in the gas giant."

"I'll be glad to get rid of it," Deadlock grunted before grabbing the medical supplies he'd scavenged. He wanted out of the organic reek for a bit and heading over to their ship sounded like a great idea at the moment.

::Found parts we can use,:: Wing announced. ::Some of them are things I've been meaning to get extras of in case of a breakdown, but the rest we can sell or trade next stopover or three.::

::Great. We've got a good haul from here,:: Jazz replied as he took a load of fluffy things to their ship. ::So much fluffy stuff.::

::I'll start hauling the parts out so we can sort and stow them properly. Sorting will keep us busy for a while on our shifts. There are some solid boxes and crates in here for packing as well but some of them are going to take two of us to move,:: Wing said cheerfully.

::There are four of us, so no problem. Know how to check for traps?:: Jazz asked.

::I know the basics which is probably more than these two bothered setting up,:: Wing answered. ::I haven't found anything dangerous for us yet.::

::All right. Just be careful and comm me if you see _anything_ out of place.:: Jazz insisted as he headed back to the bounty hunter's ship.

::I will make certain to get you the instant I see even a bolt out of place,:: Wing replied cheerfully as he continued shifting parts into crates and boxes. He even found a few that weren't exactly what their ship used but would do in the event of an emergency until they could locate the real thing. Those went into the boxes of replacements. As much as he'd have preferred the stop to have gone without incident, he had to admit this one had gone as well as possible.

He caught Thundercracker's comm that the fuel transfer was complete and went to check on the next crate. One nudge and he knew it was full. Looking it over as he had the others, Wing idly noted this one was securely locked and also seemed sturdier than some of the others. He played with it for a bit but couldn't figure out the lock. After an ineffectual try or two, he commed Jazz, ::You want to pick a lock or just haul a crate over and check it later? It feels full.::

::I'll pick it, after we remove everything useful. No reason to lose goods to a slip,:: Jazz commed back. ::Just set it aside for now.::

Wing moved the crate aside and found another empty box to fill with parts. Fortunately he was almost done in here since the real work would be later organizing everything. So when everything useful had been removed from the ship, Jazz shooed them all off, insisting that he be the only one on board when he dealt with the booby trap. As much as Wing's coding and spark objected, he understood the reasoning for it. Anyone who wasn't needed was an extra mech at risk if it went wrong.

It didn't mean he had to like it and waiting outside had him fidgeting until Jazz's comm pinged them without any bad news.

::It wasn't that hard to get in, but we have a problem. It's their sparklings,:: Jazz told them.

::They locked them in a crate?:: Deadlock said in disbelief.

::Are they in stasis?:: Thundercracker asked as they headed into the ship to meet up with Jazz and see this latest problem.

::Yeah, still inside eggs. I'd guess they didn't want to raise them in space,:: Jazz replied.

"Sound thinking on their part," Thundercracker said after a moment's thought when they entered the bay and caught sight of the glow of a stasis field. "A small ship like this is no place for younglings of flier descent whether they are organic or mechanical."

"What are we going to do with them?" Wing asked, wary of the answer these hardened warriors might give. "We can't murder sparklings, and we can't just abandon them on this rock."

"Somebody on Aelios raises them, if we don't find some of their own kind to quietly take them," Jazz said like it was his call. "They stay in stasis until we know."

"That's probably the best idea for now," Thundercracker agreed, staring down at the eggs before nodding to Jazz to re-seal the crate. "They will be safest in there."

"Let's put it in the berthroom with Prowl so it doesn't get mixed up with the other crates," Deadlock grunted.

"There aren't many organics on Aelios, but I'm certain someone will take care of them if it becomes necessary. We should go through the records in the ship and see if we can learn their species name and planet of origin," Wing was relieved that this was the call the others were making without too much prompting on his part. This was something that would help demonstrate to Dai Atlas that they were not simply cold-sparked monsters. Protecting even volunteering to raise the young of an enemy was something a Knight would do. Far more than a simple citizen would be expected to believe in.

"Already downloaded everything," Jazz grinned up at Wing as he carefully closed the crate and locked it. "We can work through it during our shifts."

"We will get the crate properly settled while you finish preparing this ship for destruction," Wing and Deadlock each took a side and lifted it up with all the care the contents deserved before heading out of the ship.

"Anything I can do to help here?" Thundercracker asked once the others had left. The sooner they could get going the better the chance they would lose any other pursuers, even if it meant being stuck on their ship again.

"Do a final check on the outside to see that we can tow it and get the lines set up," Jazz offered the outside work to the Seeker.

"It'll be ready to go before you're done here," Thundercracker dipped his wings fractionally in thanks for the last bit of time outside.


	5. Shift 5: Deadlock/Wing

Wing watched as Deadlock moved, one of Wing's short swords in hand. He could find no fault with the mech's instinctive use of frame or weapon, though his form as a martial artist was terrible. After watching Deadlock take one particularly poor stance during an offensive strike, the Knight couldn't help but offer, "I can show you another way to guard your flanks against attack if you're interested?"

Deadlock glanced at him and grunted. "About time."

Wing walked over and circled Deadlock briefly before placing a hand on the warrior's right leg, "Shift your leg over to the right a half a step and bend your knee a bit more. You'll feel it when your center of gravity settles. That means you'll be able to maintain your balance and position better when someone attacks from your left."

The warrior did as instructed and teeked of surprise-understanding when he felt exactly what Wing described.

Wing stepped in front of Deadlock and carefully shifted his left hand as he said, "Turn the blade like this. With these blades it will make it easier to deflect a blow away rather than towards you. It's easier to remember in the beginning if you line up the tip with your pede."

Deadlock nodded, did as he was told and made a lunge attack at an invisible enemy before coming back to where he'd been. "Ever train somebody before?"

Wing nodded and watched as Deadlock made a six-move sequence that was pure aggression. "Yes, I have trained several Initiates who came to the Order with varying levels of weapon proficiency."

"Any like me?" Deadlock asked. "Come on, spar."

"Dai Atlas was already an accomplished warrior when I took him on as an Initiate," Wing said and watched Deadlock stumble with a flare of shock, and almost immediately cringe. Out of respect for the warrior Wing didn't say anything about it. "I have never trained a berserker, but I am willing if you are interested in the long term commitment to become a Knight," Wing drew his other short sword and settled into a familiar stance.

"Warriors are warriors. I'd rather have a head start than start behind," Deadlock shrugged and settled, his pede and balance where Wing had showed him.

"I would be honored to teach you what it means to be a Knight," Wing knew the warrior wouldn't have survived this long if he couldn't adapt quickly, so he didn't hesitate to start the practice bout immediately. His first strike was aimed at Deadlock's right side, a move normally meant to get past his defenses and take him out quickly. It was met with a twisting lunge that went against everything Wing had been trained to do, but he couldn't be too surprised that Deadlock was only half interested in defense. The mech was pure aggression. Defense came as an afterthought.

Even so, it was a solid move and forced Wing to abort his attack to avoid getting hit. He fell back and twisted aside to let Deadlock's lunge throw him off balance, although the Aerial noted it didn't effect his new trainee nearly as much since Wing had helped with his footwork. Parrying a strike at his right shoulder, Wing observed, "If you aim slightly more to the right you'll get more force against most opponents' parries unless they're more than half again your mass."

Deadlock grunted and swung the sword again. It wasn't a calculated move, nor a trained one, but it was deadly accurate and with more than enough power to slash through most armor. Wing briefly debated reminding Deadlock they didn't have a medic but decided that he had enough skill to keep things from going too far. So he dodged around the blow and struck under Deadlock's arm going for his shoulder joint. It would be crippling damage to movement but easily repaired.

The flare of excitement in Deadlock field and the way it relaxed into the mixture of pain and feeling good was disturbing to Wing on many levels. All he could think of was masochism, but that made no sense to him with the warrior. Deadlock wasn't like that, yet here it was.

With one arm down Deadlock locked the joints as best he could, switched his blade to his off hand and came at Wing again. Wing's blade deflected most of the blow but the angle caused the tip of Deadlock's sword to gouge into Wing's chestplate, causing some damage to his armor in the process. Fortunately it wasn't critical or particularly deep so it would be repairable once they were done sparring. A glob of armor filler and Wing would be good as new.

That wasn't what kept Wing's focus and sharpened his sparring level. How long had it been since he'd been damaged in one on one combat? Never mind that Deadlock was untrained and working on base code, how many _trained_ Knights could pull off what had just been done? Not many, and most who could were Wing's seniors by a significant margin.

It wasn't just Deadlock's raw talent that was challenging Wing's expertise in this fight. All the Knights trained together and trained each other and by now they knew each other's moves and all had the same foundation in their form. Deadlock's unpredictability coupled with being almost completely self-taught and extensive wartime fighting experience brought something Wing had to admit the Knights had lacked for a long time. A necessary challenge and shake-up to their training routine.

The utter glee Deadlock felt when fighting, even just sparring on this level, was a distracting intoxicant too. Wing had teeked it before, but never so untamed. It felt good to give the often depressed and frustrated warrior something he enjoyed so purely.

That didn't mean Wing was going to lose.

It did mean that when Wing got done teaching Deadlock and honing that raw talent he was going to be an even more formidable fighter. While tangling their blades in another parry Wing snapped off a strike with his other hand aimed at Deadlock's damaged arm, intending to grapple Deadlock down to the ground. It might not have been his brightest idea, but it did work.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm pinned," Deadlock groused at him when the jet was straddling his back with both arms secured.

Wing held him a moment to prove a point before standing and offering his new pupil a hand up. "I know a trick or two to help keep from getting pinned like that if you're interested." He waited expectantly to see if Deadlock really wanted to train with him.

"If you know it, I want to," the warrior said with blunt honesty.

* * *

"Are you asking to get robbed?" Deadlock hissed.

"What do you mean?" Wing asked as he was pulled further down the bar to another spot Deadlock seemed to find more suitable.

"You didn't even notice the little pickpocket did you?" Deadlock glared back at the small reptilian organic who had started to follow them. It cowered away from his glare and disappeared back into the crowd.

"I noticed him. He hasn't done anything, so he's not a pickpocket," Wing said with the innocence that simply did not belong in a mech as old and well-traveled as he was.

"Were you were setting yourself up as bait or did you just not notice he almost had a hand under your robe?" Deadlock wanted to smack some sense into Wing, only he suspected it wouldn't help in the least. It made the times with Jazz so much easier. At least the former Autobot understood how to survive the lowlifes that flourished in ports.

"There was nothing there for him to take," Wing countered after placing an order for two cubes of the local home brew.

"He could also plant something on you or stick a knife in your side," Deadlock pointed out. "Last thing we need is for you to get blamed for stealing something or stuck in medical."

Wing just stared at him. "Why would anyone?"

"Why would someone want to get rid of something hot by planting it on someone else so they can take the fall? Or why would someone decide to stab a random target?" Deadlock couldn't believe Wing had survived this long on his own.

There was another long stare from the jet, and two swallows of the energon, before Wing responded. "Yes?"

Deadlock scanned the bar for a moment, taking a third look at all the patrons. Nodding discreetly towards one of the booths he tried to explain something that was for him completely obvious, "See the Junkions over in the far booth? Let's say the pickpocket stole something from one of them, but he sees that his mark is about to notice the theft. That group will cause a ruckus and find the thief. So the thief plants the most obvious part of his take on someone else so they will get blamed. Getting to keep something is better than getting caught."

Wing listened, he really did. Deadlock could even teek that it was honest listening, and that it went completely over his helm.

With a soft sigh and another swallow Wing murmured an apology.

Deadlock tried to think of another way to explain that might get through to the Knight. He decided to try the other example, "As for someone stabbing a random person in a bar, it causes a distraction. If he is part of a team that's working the bar, then an attack diverts everyone attention away from their own pockets so his crew can nab hard credits."

"But why steal?" Wing managed to find a core question he simply couldn't grasp.

"Because it beats starving?" Deadlock stared at Wing, trying to comprehend that the Aerial had never been in circumstances where that was the only option. It took a moment longer to remember that he had been, in a way at least. "Because survival comes before morals. Remember what we did to get free?"

"Well, yes, but that was different," Wing objected, his voice just as quiet as Deadlock's had been.

"Not really. Survival is survival. You do what it takes to survive," Deadlock insisted. "Stealing fuel, credits, it all keeps you online to try make it through another orn. If setting someone else up to take the fall will keep your frame intact, well at least you survived to maybe someday feel guilty about it. Morals are an unnecessary luxury when you don't know when your next cube is going to come."

"I'll just trust you on that," Wing murmured.

Deadlock gave up on getting the Aerial agree with him on survival right now. At least Wing had shown a decent level of practicality when it had come to the escape, but he'd need to warn Jazz and Thundercracker about this major blind spot later especially if the Knight was going to keep entering space ports. He decided to pay Wing back for some of the training exercises he'd had to endure recently, "So, how much possible trouble to do you see here?"

"That one's looking for a fight," Wing made a small motion towards a big bruiser of an organic. "The little mech with the Lathirians is being abused. The two Captis are going to be looking for a brawl soon."

Deadlock nodded, agreeing with Wing's assessment and noting that he was more aware of the potential combatants then other trouble in the room. "Yeah, those three are going to get in a fight probably in two more drinks. You missed the two simian organics off to right who just tried to slip something in that Nebulan's drink. She spotted it so that's going to get a bit unpleasant soon. You also didn't catch the three bounty hunters that just entered the bar."

Every sensor and scrap of awareness Wing could spare was instantly focused near the door to pick out the hunters before he glanced that way. It wasn't another group of Raccipi. These were new to Wing. The three were mechanioids although they looked a bit more like tall, slender Insecticons than Cybertronians. Their large optics surveyed the room before they started moving through the crowd, one of them thrusting a datapad towards each group they passed.

Wing very purposefully turned back to his drink, trying to think of how to get out of the situation.

"Relax, will you. It'll be fine," Deadlock said very quietly before finishing his cube and ordering a second.

Most of the patrons simply shoved the datapad aside or plead ignorance; although one or two mentioned hearing that a couple of groups of wanted mechanoids were roaming the area.

When they finally reached Wing and Deadlock, the datapad was thrust in front of Wing as the bounty hunter said, "You see these mechanoids?"

Not giving him time to respond, Deadlock reached in front of Wing and grabbed the pad, giving it a tug towards himself. It was obligingly moved, though the mechanoid didn't let it go.

"No," Deadlock lied with the smoothness of a professional con artist only without the creepy aspect most of them had.

"You seen? Dangerous Cybertronians roaming space lanes," the bounty hunter clicked and tilted the datapad back towards Wing asking again for his input. The other two were intently watching the patrons around them, scanning for trouble and familiar faces or frames.

"No," Wing shook his helm.

The bounty hunter stared at them for a moment before moving on to another group of patrons beside them. They continued on down the line until someone announced they'd seem two of those Cybertronians captured back at Lagu Wynn station. A bit of prodding later produced that it was a dark-feathered Raccipi that did the capturing without much violence and both Wing and Deadlock relaxed a bit more. That was the truth. 

The bounty hunters continued pressing for information from others, and one of the Lathirians eventually volunteered that they'd heard that the Raccipi left the station with the Cybertronians' ship. Disgruntled, the trio eventually left the bar.

"That should help spread the word," Deadlock grinned into his drink. "So, see any other potential trouble?"

Wing turned and stared at the crowd in the bar, determined to do better this time. After a moment, he said, "The Nebulan left but the simian organics keep motioning towards the pickpocket from earlier."

Deadlock nodded. "I expect they're debating whether to hassle it for some of its take or not. Thieves tend to ruin a rapist's game."

Wing nodded and they continued to play 'what do you see' as he finished his cube and Deadlock finished his second.

"Come on," Deadlock said as he stood.

Wing stood and followed Deadlock out of the bar, noting how most of the patrons seemed to recognize the warrior as someone not to hassled and simply moved out of his way. He expected them to head for the ship since their shopping was done, but Deadlock seemed to have a different destination in mind so he followed the warrior a bit further into the scummier parts of the port. It wasn't long before Deadlock walked up to a mechanoid in bad need of repairs but not so much that he couldn't stand.

A quick exchange and Deadlock released his spike as a few credits were handed over. It seemed to be very little to Wing, even for something as simple as sucking Deadlock off, but he could teek both and neither seemed upset by the exchange.

This looked almost like a business transaction to Wing, and he didn't see how Deadlock could be enjoying this encounter. It was kind of awkward standing around waiting for the pair to finish, so he focused on their surroundings to make certain no one tried to take advantage of the pair or use the opportunity to rob them. No one glanced at them more than once. It seemed to be an expected activity. Wing listened to Deadlock grunt his overload and the quick way he cleaned up afterwards.

Then they were headed back to the ship.

Once they were in a bit safer territory Wing said quietly, "If that was what you were interested in I would have done it for you."

"I know, but you won't go hungry. Places like this someone will," Deadlock attempted to explain something he didn't like to think about the reasons he did.

"Why didn't you just give him the credits then?" Wing asked curious about Deadlock's reasoning.

"I don't do charity," he sneered in reflexive disgust. "Credits are earned."

"So instead of giving him the credits you required a service so that you could compensate him," Wing pondered Deadlock's instinctive dislike of charity and probed a bit further. "Is there a reason that charity should be refused?"

"Means you can't earn it, or don't value what you have. No one worth respecting does it," Deadlock answered far more slowly, the description coming after he translated it into glyphs.

"What about charity medical clinics or free energon rations?" This was an attitude that contradicted what Wing had been taught about helping others, and he was trying to understand the mentality.

"It should be earned," Deadlock objected to both as he unlocked the access hatch to their ship. "Those who don't _do_ something don't deserve it."

Wing nodded slowly, starting to see where Deadlock was coming from but not completely understanding the world view, "I have been taught that sometimes those who are trying to better themselves can't quite make it without a little help. Once they are back on their pedes, they should repay the help they received by helping another succeed. Much like how we guard each others backs during a fight. If I am wounded, you would defend me and vice versa."

"I would," Deadlock agreed without hesitation. "That's not charity. You'd guard mine, you _did_ guard mine. It's what allies do." He quieted for a bit. "What you described isn't charity. It's a loan. Payment is expected."

Now Wing thought he was starting to see how Deadlock viewed things, "It's still expected that the recipient will work to produce compensation even though the payment is expected to be give to someone other than the initial supplier. In regards to the pickpocket earlier, is theft better than accepting charity?"

"Yeah, that's still a loan. Surely you've paid someone back with an IOU from someone else," Deadlock shrugged. "And yeah. It's work, it takes skill and you don't get any more than a target can lose."

Wing frowned. "But at home...."

"That's burglary, not pickpocketing," Deadlock cut him off. "Big difference."

"And with a weapon?" Wing poked at the distinctions.

"Cowardly and unskilled," Deadlocked huffed.

"We come from very different backgrounds, but I think I'm understanding your perspective better," This wasn't a worldview that Wing could completely understand given his own experiences, but at least he was starting to understand Deadlock a little better. More importantly, most of it would fit with the Knight's code although it was a bit sideways from the way the majority viewed it.

"Why does understanding me matter?" Deadlock glanced at him as they rode the lift up to the habitation level.

"We are a unit and depend upon one another. Our histories and experiences have shaped each of us, and it helps us work together better if we understand how each other thinks," Wing shrugged.

Deadlock could only nod. He didn't understand, but he didn't have a reason to challenge Wing on it either.

"What did you do before you joined the Decepticons?" Wing asked, curious to see if Deadlock would open up further.

The warrior glanced at him with a bit of a glare but shrugged. "I was muscle for the mob in Tarn."

Wing nodded acceptably even as he personally couldn't imagine living that life, "So you found a place which valued your skills as I found in the Knights."

"Yeah, they valued me. Anybody who wanted a dumb berserker on the payroll wanted me," he actually smiled a bit despite the frustration in his field when they entered the lounge. "Megatron was the first who didn't just want a berserker."

"You are far from unintelligent, Deadlock," Wing said simply, not wanting to disrupt Deadlock's uncharacteristic openness. He was also curious to learn why Deadlock had followed Megatron. "You may not have studied as a scholar but you do possess a sharp mind. Anyone truly listening to your observations in the bar would recognize that you understand how to read another's intentions."

"A scholar? Try _no_ education, illiterate and already too angry to sit still," Deadlock huffed and flopped down on the lounge. "That was a long time ago too. All that I learned first hand, by doing or getting caught by surprise. It takes time to pick up survival skills."

"You were willing to learn and adapt; that's an important thing. We can work on addressing your lack of education if you're interested," Wing offered as he settled in his favorite chair. "The four of us can help you with the gaps if you're willing to put in some effort."

Deadlock sighed. "You know as well as anyone that if it doesn't have a practical application I'm not going to retain it."

"Yes, there are things that are knowledge for the sake of learning, but some of it does have a practical application," Wing replied. "I know you already have good instincts. Learning how to speak and read other dialects helps you figure out if someone has insulted or propositioned you. It's not too far of a stretch going from knowing if someone has ripped you off making change to figuring out which investment is going to give you better returns."

"I teek that, mostly," Deadlock smirked. "Been a long time since anyone was stupid enough to do any of it. Investments are Prowl's thing. What languages are standard in the city?"

Wing thought for a bit about who they'd be most likely to interact with in Aelios, "With Thundercracker in our unit we're going to encounter several Seeker dialects, and Prowl means we'll be interacting with Praxians. Most of the city dialects are common like Iaconian or Altihexian."

That raised an optic ridge. "A single city with no common dialect? I figured Dai Atlas would be more organized than that."

Wing chuckled, "Oh, everyone knows Imperial Standard, but many wanted to keep the languages of their home cities alive. There are small enclaves of some of the different frame types, and you can hear them talking to one another in their original dialects."

Deadlock grunted. "Like Prowl still thinks in gibberish half the time when we're linked up and Jazz is always in gibberish."

Wing nodded. "That gibberish is Praxian. I don't know it well but I'm passable in all the major dialects still used in the city. I can read more than I can speak because I like to eat out. One learns best what one uses. Though I think Jazz's thinking has more to do with his function than any affection for a given language. I know it's none of the major ones."

"Now that I can follow," Deadlock rumbled in good humor.

"So, is there a particular dialect that interests you?" Wing asked. "Or should I just pick one at random? If I do it will be for one of my favorite places to eat."

"Praxian," Deadlock grinned. "Might as well understand what Prowl's thinking about me."

"Somehow I knew that was going to be your choice," Wing smiled back and leaned forward towards his student. "Should we get started?"

* * *

"Hay, Deadlock, did you know the female Raccipi are the bigger dark ones?" Wing spoke up randomly as they relaxed in the lounge, watching the stars streak by. "It's the males that tend the nest and young."

"Is that different from other organics?" Deadlock asked almost indifferently.

"Oh yes. In the majority of organics the males are larger than the females or they are of comparable size. It's also unusual for the males to be the more flamboyantly colored ones," Wing explained.

"So normally the sires are bigger and less colorful. Do they normally take care of the sparklings?" Deadlock kept most of the interest out of his voice but he did teek a bit more curious about the sentient organics they had in stasis.

"Most races I know of the carrier takes primary care, or both do," Wing shook his helm. "These avians are most unusual."

"Is that going to make finding someone to raise them on Aelios more difficult? I mean they're smart but they're also organics so a lot of mechs won't want to deal with them," Deadlock asked.

"No, not many will," Wing admitted with a sigh. "There are some who like smart organic pets and I know some of them did bring their pets with them. Fortunately the stasis field will keep them safe until a suitable caretaker is found. I know I've seen organic fliers around the cavern, so someone has the skills."

"Since you didn't recognize them I doubt they're part of one of the species someone already has there. We're going to get stuck with them, aren't we?" Deadlock looked directly at Wing, daring the Aerial to contradict him.

"I rather hope not. Between the files we have and those that know their basic type, there must be someone better suited to it than we are," Wing didn't hide that he wasn't sure.

Deadlock shrugged, "Yeah, but we're the one bringing the problem. Can't blame the sparklings though; it's not their fault they're going to cause a bit of a mess."

"No, we can't," Wing couldn't agree more. "On the up side it takes them just over a metacycle to reach maturity and they almost never live longer than a vorn. Even if we have to care for them it'll be over before you know it."

"At least they won't be a long term problem as long as they don't breed," Deadlock agreed, a bit more cheerful at the prospect of only having to deal with them for a short time. "How many of them are there anyway? I saw a couple of eggs before the box was closed."

"Three, and it's important they don't breed. Organics become very sick if they reproduce with close kin. All of those eggs came from the same two creators. I wouldn't teach them not to love or mate with a sibling since they have no other options for their own kind but I'd make sure no eggs could come of it," Wing said firmly. "So if we deal with them, then it really will be only a vorn."

"Weird they have that limitation," Deadlock grunted. "Anything else we need to worry about then?"

"It has something to do with how their bodies are built," Wing said with a warble warning that it was well past his knowledge to say much more. "I know more about organics than many, but I never studied them."

"How do you know then?" Deadlock leaned forward.

Wing gave him a grin. "A lover of mine back on Cybertron kept organic avians as pets. I picked up a fair amount from them. As for other concerns ... umm, they're easily damaged, they're native fliers like Seekers, they're predatory so they'll be relatively aggressive and I don't think they'll be able to speak any language for the first two or three decaorns so figuring out what they want will be difficult at first."

"Sounds like they'll be a lot of work for a short time. Did we grab the nonperishable consumables off that ship? I guess if there are other organic avians around someone will have something they can use as fuel," Deadlock said skeptically. "Still, if we find someone to take the eggs they might help the rest of us make a connection in the city."

"That's my take on it," Wing agreed with a thoughtful hum. "I think we grabbed everything we could. The records do say they eat other organic creatures, so fuel shouldn't be too difficult to come by out here. Might be good to start picking up some meat for them. Or some fast-reproducing animals for it and keep them in stasis until they hatch."

Deadlock grimaced. "Getting them food is probably a good idea but I'm not dealing with organics crawling around inside me."

Wing shuddered and his wings flicked in and out several times. "Not if there is any way to help it. So keep to the ones that are big enough to be easy to contain. I've seen things like that in a couple markets, and they're not expensive. The stasis field in the crate they're in should be enough for enough breeding stock for their fuel creatures. Even if we don't I know there's at least one supplier in the city for the organic meat eaters others have as pets. It shouldn't be a problem." He paused and hummed. "Have you ever hunted for fuel?"

Deadlock thought for a klik before answering, "Yeah, I could teach them but I don't think we want the little fliers hunting other mech's pets. I don't think that would go over well."

"No, it wouldn't," Wing agreed quickly. "They have the instincts though. It would be good to teach them how to use those instincts and what not to hunt. Raccipi are smart enough to learn the difference."

"It might be fun teaching them to hunt, and at least they won't be the size of those eggs for very long. I'd hate to accidentally squish one," Deadlock shrugged. "Just as long as one of one of the others doesn't wind up liking them enough to want to keep other pets later."

"Too late with me," Wing snickered. "I don't usually have one though."

"Why am I not surprised," Deadlock just shook his head at the other mech, still finding it hard to believe Wing was actually one of the oldest in their gestalt.

"Because you know me," Wing chirped with an unrepentant grin. "You'll get used to it. Everyone does."

"Just one more thing to get used to in that city," Deadlock looked over at Wing after a pause. "So what else do we have to worry about if we're stuck with them? Do they spit acid or shed those feathers everywhere?"

"No acid, or anything else like that," he smile s bit. "They do shed feathers, though it seems that once they're sub-adult -- mechling stage -- it's a fairly controlled event. Something about not losing the ability to fly and hunt while the feathers are replaced. So yes, pay attention where they nest, but they won't be all over the place. The messy part will be their waste removal system. It seems it takes until they're a sub-adult to have any control over it. On the up side, they generally don't move about until then either so the mess will all be in one place."

Deadlock grimaced, "Wonderful. I'll feed the fledglings and teach them to hunt, but I'm not cleaning up after them. That's someone else's job."

Wing smiled, then chuckled. "I think we can all work with that. A fair share of duties to the home doesn't mean everyone does everything. Grounders won't be asked to do high windows, fliers won't be asked to do crawl ways, and personal preferences will be taken into account. We'll sort it out so everyone's okay with their duties," he promised and meant it.

"You're acting like we're all going to live together. Thundercracker won't want to share space with a bunch of grounders once he's got a trine," Deadlock just stared at Wing, trying to figure out if he was still serious.

"In the first vorn I'm fairly sure we will be. It'll take time to be approved to live unsupervised and separate lives," Wing shrugged. "Just because I'm vouching for you doesn't mean we'll be trusted right away."

"If we're ever trusted that much," Deadlock grunted, knowing the fear the civilians would have of four warriors of their caliber showing up at the city. Especially once they learned what all of them were capable of doing. "We're going to be under constant scrutiny for a very long time. Can't have the big bad warriors tainting the naive civilians."

"They're more worried about killing civilians. Everyone who came on the Exodus wanted to come. They were investigated, screened for suitability. While many have created, only a handful are in the third generation. Tainting isn't something that anyone is worried about," Wing said quietly. "And there is a lot between being required to live in a specific place and watched constantly and full freedom. It happens in stages."

Deadlock stared at the wall a moment before continuing, "Stages that will take forever when they find out what I am and what I can do. I'm everything your people tried to screen out of their perfect society."

Wing's gaze dropped in tact admission of that truth and his own significant role in it.

"Not everything, but yes, you would have never made it on the ships," the Knight said quietly before looking up. "You have a lot of desirable qualities. Your only fault is how you were raised. Your berserker nature, how aggressive you are, wouldn't have ruled you out by itself. There are at least a dozen in the city that are aggressive, a berserker or something related. The only difference is that they know how to control it rather than use it."

Deadlock chuckled cynically, "So something I had no control over would have kept me out of your perfection. Sounds like most of my existence until Megatron saw something special in me."

"We had to be selective. Even with all the planning and favors and time poured into it, we still only had twelve ships. Completely packed only a hundred thousand could go with us. Those with the needed skills to build and sustain a city and our culture had to take priority." He paused thoughtfully. "Would it make you feel any better to know you'd have been before most nobles in the selection process?"

"Actually, it does," Deadlock couldn't help chuckling a bit at the idea of him being more desirable than the nobles. "At least I know the value of work compared to those pampered wastes of energon."

"Yes, and the strength of knowing and willingness to work was very high on the values we selected for. Even so we couldn't take more than one percent of Cybertron's population. I don't even know how little of the empire's mecha we took," Wing sighed. "I wish we could have saved more. It was a miracle that we saved as many as we did."

"You probably have more civilians there than are left on Cybertron," Deadlock acknowledged candidly. "From what you've said there are more Praxians there than are left on Cybertron."

"From from what I got from Prowl, I agree. There's a viable Praxian population in the city," Wing nodded. "I don't think that can be said of Cybertron anymore."

"Definitely not," Deadlock agreed with a huff and looked out the window. "I had files on less than a dozen, including Prowl. One Decepticon, mostly Autobots, a couple neutrals. I expect there are more, but after what we did to the city, not that many more."

Wing looked at Deadlock for a long moment before asking, "Were you a part of that attack?"

"Pretty much every Decepticon was," Deadlock shrugged. "Thundercracker flew with Starscream to lead the air assault. I wasn't command but I was there."

"Why did it happen? I don't understand why the Decepticons would take the effort and resources to destroy a neutral city, especially one like Praxus," Wing was still trying to understand why this near genocide had happened.

"Thundercracker is a better one to ask. I was favored by Megatron but I wasn't of any real rank yet," Deadlock shook his helm. "I can think of a half dozen reasons, there are probably another half dozen I wouldn't think of because that's politics. None of which you'd fine acceptable."

Wing pondered for a long moment before sighing, "I've tried asking him as well as Prowl and Jazz for their version of what happened. Maybe this is something I will never be able to comprehend."

"It's _war_ Wing. There isn't much to understand for sane mecha," Deadlock shrugged. "Count it as a good thing. Means you're the only one of us with much hope as a civilian."

"I'm a Knight, not a civilian," Wing countered. "I've fought in battles and I've killed."

"But you aren't a soldier. When the choice came for you, you chose to run. The rest of us, we chose to stand and fight," he countered. "You've got your reasons why you ran, but why doesn't matter. What matters is what you do when faced with the choice."

"Does that make Dai Atlas a civilian as well? He chose to come with us instead of staying to fight in that war," Wing asked, a bit angered by the accusation. "And what did that war get you but a dying planet with no real hope for a future."

"There wasn't any hope before. We fought for a _chance_ to survive, for a _chance_ at a fair government," Deadlock growled. "He's civilian now. Neutral. Refused to support the government or the rebellion. He gave up being Cybertronian rather than try to make the world a better place. So that didn't work. It doesn't change _why_ we fought back. Cybertron was only a good place for those with credits and connections. Most who lived didn't have enough."

Wing couldn't deny all of Deadlock's accusations, especially about the vast gulf between those with power and those without that had previously existed. He'd learned even more about them since he'd met Deadlock, and those divisions bothered him greatly. After a moment, he said, "We are actively working to keep Aelios from developing those sharp divisions. No one should go without fuel or a chance to enjoy life simply because they were created in a certain level of society."

Deadlock huffed, then sighed as his anger gradually dissipated. He didn't understand it, but it was difficult to remain angry at his gestalt mates for long, especially with Wing. "I get that. Wasn't saying your choice was a bad one. Just that you fled instead of fought. Doesn't really matter. The four of us will have to become civilians if we don't want to live in a cage forever."

"Well, if you are interested you could join the Knights. It would mean that you would be called on to defend the city if we are ever attacked," Wing offered, wondering if Deadlock would accept such a role.

"Maybe," Deadlock said quietly. "Maybe. I'm not much on discipline, you know."

Wing suppressed a grin, pleased he might have found something productive Deadlock would be able to do besides simply acting as muscle. "There's more to it than just following orders. You have demonstrated a willingness to learn and better yourself. Your skills in combat would bring a needed shake-up to the Knight's training programs."

That did earn a grin. "Shaking up I can do with or without a badge."

Wing nodded, agreeing completely with Deadlock's assessment of his own nature. "Challenges to the established order are often easier to make when someone is inside a group. It's easier to close ranks against an outsider. It would require learning the ways of a Knight but that would also give you insider experience to help me figure out what needs changed."


	6. Shift 6: Jazz/Wing

Jazz stretched and grinned at Wing after Deadlock was in stasis. "So, just the two of us now. How was it, with just him."

"Not that bad actually. He's a good pupil if he's actually interested in what he's learning," Wing smiled. "I'm teaching him to speak and read Praxian. Although I admit it's not my strongest language it's the one he wanted to learn."

"Let me guess, to understand the cursing Prowl throws his way," Jazz grinned as they headed for the lounge. "I can work on it with him too."

"That's exactly the reason he gave, and I'm glad you can help him with it too. Deadlock seems to learn best when there's practicality behind it." Wing paused before continuing, "He's also agreed to let me start training him as a Knight."

"Deadlock. A Knight." Jazz actually stilled to stare at him. "What made you think he has any capacity for that kind of patience?"

Wing turned and looked at Jazz be answering, "He is determined and stubborn but honestly no more so than others I've trained. As for patience, I'm not patient by nature but I learned to use it. I would rather start find out now if he can function following the Order's rules before we get there. I don't want him arriving thinking that being a bouncer or muscle are his only options. There are a few others in the city who I've been told are berserkers although I have never seen them in action, and they should be able to help Deadlock learn better control over that part of his nature. I believe Deadlock will need the outlet for his aggression more than most of the rest of you; the Knights will better understand and accept his warrior nature than most of the civilians."

Jazz hummed thoughtfully. "Can't actually counter anything you said, but it still seems a stretch." His grin returned. "Still, you're totally right about finding out now is better than later. Mech is a survivor of the first rank. I have no doubt he'll do what he thinks he has to to survive. What are his odds, honestly?"

Wing thought for a bit, "He's got a rougher start than many, but I'd say he's got about even odds that he can do it. Honestly, I'm expecting that the protests from some of the Knights will actually encourage him to persevere. Deadlock seems like someone who likes proving others wrong. I'm also hoping that voluntarily putting himself under the Knight's continued scrutiny will help speed up Deadlock's acceptance. He's the one I was most concerned about bringing to Aelios."

"You and everybody," Jazz nodded agreement and flopped on the couch with the best view out the window. "He's the only one who was never part of civilized society. The rest of us may have largely forgotten or suppressed those protocols, but we did know them. Have to agree with you on motivating him too," his grin turned mischievous. "Prowl and I have it too, though we're far more aware of us. What can I learn to help him when I'm on shift with him?" he asked seriously.

"Beyond continuing the Praxian lessons with him, believe it or not keeping up the hiding practice is one of the better things to do. Whether it's him hiding things or searching for them, it's making him focus on a task," Wing thought for a bit. "If you're interested in learning some of the katas you could practice them with him."

"Sure," Jazz perked up. "I'm always game to learn new things. What about the data stuff? Laws and history and whatnot? I'm sure there's plenty you aren't supposed to share with outsiders, but surely a chunk of it's general access."

Wing chuckled briefly, "We're not actually supposed to have contact with outsiders so that's not something they've officially established very well. I've already put together datapads of all the relevant laws I can think of since you and Thundercracker will have to argue some of our case to the leaders. You already know a great deal about how Aelios came to be founded, so that's not something I'm too worried about discussing."

"And we already have the civilian laws," Jazz nodded. "I'll see how much he'll learn from me, and I can definitely do the hide and seek. It's one of the few activities beyond 'facing we seem to have in common. Maybe we can continue your education on the things to watch out for? You've got a round with TC coming up and he might not be able to leave the ship at every port."

"Am I really that bad?" Wing asked. "I've never had a problem with anyone at a space port before this trip."

"Hopeless, no, but you are far too trusting," Jazz was quick to reassure him. "You probably have had trouble and just didn't recognize it, or maybe you really did get that lucky. What it is, though, is your weakest skill I know about. Something I'm good at. Just offering to help you learn."

"Deadlock says it's worse than my aim with a blaster?" Wing asked. "I'll need all the help I can get then."

Jazz hummed. "Unless something unusual happened, I don't think it's that bad. Still happy to help out. The more we bring our skills up to par the better off we all are. Are there any languages you want to know better? I'm fluent in nearly everything."

"Well, I need to work on Praxian with you since I read it better than I speak it. I wouldn't mind brushing up on a few others since most of what I know involves menus. I could work with you and Thundercracker on Vosian," Wing grinned.

"Happy to," Jazz grinned right back. "Have any dialects developed on Aelios since you left? I'm going to hazard a guess that the one the Knights have isn't exactly for outsiders."

"There's been a few changes and additions to the more common ones, but most of them are still fairly similar to what we brought with us. The Knights do have their own which I can't teach you," Wing shrugged. "Most of us were trying to preserve Cybertron's cultures so new ones have been fairly slow to develop."

"Makes settling in easier, that way. Good for us," Jazz relaxed a bit. "It's hard to know. As you could probably tell from Deadlock, the old languages are all but extinct on Cybertron. Each faction now has a variant of Imperial, but for the most part it's close enough to pass as an odd accent."

"Most of them survived on Aelios even if only in written form. The main languages continue in their little enclaves especially in the arts and food they produce. I hated having to ask for an Imperial menu when I went out so I learned how to read enough to get by," Wing chuckled lightly.

"That is dedication to a cause," Jazz purred in honest delight. "Did you get out to the cities much before things went to the pit?"

"Not really, that's why I got so interested in trying everything once we were settled and mecha started opening restaurants. I figured out that there were things on the menu in the native language that weren't there in Imperial. Also some places change the dishes if you order in Imperial to make them more universally appealing. To me that just made things bland, so I bugged friends to help me. I've got a few chefs that have to be missing me, especially in the sweet shops."

"Oh, you have _got_ to show me all the good ones," Jazz perked up even more than he did for a good 'face. "I've yet to meet something too sweet. And I totally get you there. If I hadn't learned so many dialects for my gig I'd have picked up like you did, for munchie shopping."

"I know every sweet shop on Aelios, and I used to know when they brought out the best treats. A few of them would save a couple of my favorites for me if I got stuck on duty since I was such a good customer. Being able to fly makes treat runs fairly quick work but I'd be more than happy to show you around," Wing grinned, happy to have another partner to go treat shopping with and another connection to a member of his flock.

"Looking forward to it," Jazz purred. "What cuisine is sweetest to you?"

Wing thought for a bit before answering, "Polyhex and Cybertropolis are both pretty sweet, although I've found a great dish at a small Axiom Nexus restaurant I located a while back."

"I _so_ want to go on a munchie crawl or dozen," Jazz's optics glittered. "Much into dance clubs?"

"Love them, and I know where they all are." Wing answered immediately, brightening even further that they had this much in common. "There are some great clubs like Zabria and Danic's depending on if you want to just dance or enjoy the actual music."

A shiver of genuine anticipation passed through Jazz's frame and the fledgling gestalt bond hummed with _excitement-pleasure_.

"This just keeps sounding better and better. I am _so_ going to monopolize your free time until I get a feel for things." He paused as a thought occurred to him and he calmed down sharply. "Assuming the Knights let us stay, how are we going to pay for basics until we get our tires under us? I can't imagine your income and our finds out here could cover it for five, no matter how careful we are. Never mind the extras we're talking about."

"Well, initially we'll be monitored by the Knights so we'll be in the Citadel. We won't have to pay for anything there, especially Prowl if he's being reformatted, but we will have to do chores and follow the rules. If Deadlock is accepted as an Initiate the two of us will remain in the Citadel, but once the three of you are settled and allowed more freedom you'll be able to find jobs. That's when we'll start looking for places for everyone to settle."

Jazz let out a small shiver of relief. "All of us know how to do grunt work," he promised. "So there might be a few credits to spare ... are you on shanix?"

"Yes, we still use it. It was one of the things we could keep to help everyone cope with all the other adjustments," Wing leaned back. "Most of the prices should be in line with how things used to be on Cybertron, but we should get a good price for the more exotic items we're bringing in with us. Aelios doesn't have a thriving trade with the outside."

"I'm surprised you have any trade," Jazz said. "We're all going to need to learn values all over again. Well, Prowl might not if he doesn't have to be reformatted, but TC I and definitely do and I doubt Deadlock ever understood it. It's been a long, long time since values back home matched the Golden Age. It'll be nice not to have to scrounge for energon anymore."

"Most of our so called trade is actually scavenging, since Dai Atlas doesn't want us to have contact with the outside," Wing admitted. "But there is plenty of energon available."

Jazz cocked his helm. "Salvage from what?"

"The other ships that crashed while we were there. Six have been added to the city that way, but quite a few more arrived as frames; deactivated by the crash or what lead to it. When organics abandon a settlement we also strip that to the bedrock to discourage the idea that anything ever survived there. Organics don't generally last long," he shrugged. "Even ten generations is rarely more than a decade. So we wait them out and eventually they move on to more habitable worlds."

"Anyone other than organics tried to settle there?" Jazz asked.

"A few mechanoid slavers have tried to make camps but they don't tend to stay long either. Dai Atlas doesn't like anyone knowing we're there but he will authorize some of the stealthier Knights to monitor them," Wing admitted.

"And likely a bit more if they're stubborn," Jazz grinned with the knowledge of being used for such. "Maybe some orn he'll trust me enough to let me use my war-time skills."

Wing chuckled, "It would be a good job for you especially given your level of skill. Dai Atlas is very stubborn, but he can often be brought around especially if it will greatly benefit Aelios. It may take some time to convince him though; he doesn't tend to trust easily."

"I know the type. Half my world is that type. I'm good with working for it." Jazz's grin widened a bit. "He'll like me in time."

"I'm sure you can eventually convince half the Citadel to value your skills without too much trouble," Wing pondered for a bit. "I know many of the Knights will be interested in training against you, and I can think of a few that will almost immediately enjoy spending time with you."

Pleasure infused Jazz's field. "I'm _so_ game for training, and I _love_ making new friends. How many of them enjoy dancing or clubbing?"

"A lot of us do, especially the younger Knights and Initiates," Wing leaned into Jazz's field for a moment, enjoying the contact. "One of the Master Knights owns The Larret, and a lot of us go there when we're in the mood. It's more about watching erotic dancers on stage and maybe a bit of fun with one afterwards though."

"Oh, that's fun too," Jazz purred. "I have to admit I'm surprised that a Knight of rank would be involved in such a shady business."

Wing blinked at him. "It's not shady at all. Not on Aelios at least."

"You've legitimized that kind of business?" Jazz asked, curious about what other old rules they had changed. It was also something he could potentially do to make credits while looking for another job. "What about gambling?"

"It was always legitimate," Wing shrugged. "At least in the places I encountered it. Yes, gambling is too. Where wasn't it legal?"

Jazz thought for a bit before answering, "Several cities officially disapproved on those sort of establishments unless they catered to certain classes and clientele. It was one thing for a sparked courtesan to entertain the elite, but an average mecha deciding to become an exotic dancer was often frowned on and they could run into legal problems. The army doesn't tend to approve of gambling since a broke mecha can be a desperate mecha who does things they wouldn't normally do."

"I guess I never crossed paths with those cities. It's not the kind of venue I'm usually drawn to. I like to dance with equals more than watch someone. I can see the gambling angle though. I'll admit, I don't know all the laws in either area. I know both exist. Both are officially legal and even Knights are known to indulge. Gambling is discouraged for Knights, but not actually barred," Wing tried to explain. "Knights are held to far more strict standards than the general population. Any other types of things like that?"

"What about other intoxicants besides high grade? Like Secrin or hibs? Are they treated like high grade or considered illegal?" This conversation was tapping into a side of Aelios Jazz had expected to find hidden instead of out in the open.

"Again, I'm not up on all the laws. The Code of Light is _really_ against intoxication no matter the source. I do know that most intoxicants are legal. I remember that debate when we were setting up the laws. It was pretty heated, but eventually the combination of making harming oneself illegal and creating criminals that did no actual harm to others being wrong won out. It's possible something was deemed so dangerous in the meantime it was outlawed, but the base law says that an intoxicant is an intoxicant. As long as you don't force it on another, which is a crime, and you don't break any laws while on it, which is an extra criminal charge, it's all legal," Wing hoped he explained well enough.

Jazz whistled and perked up, "Well, that's further than anyone went back on Cybertron, although it makes sense with the focus on individual responsibility. Prowl will like the part about having extra charges during a crime due to the intoxication."

"Good," Wing smiled softly. "Are there any hang-ups you think he has that will hold through the reformat?"

Jazz thought for a bit. "Hang-ups, not really. He'll still be rule orientated and probably hard on offenders, and I bet still fascinated with numbers and statistics. The tac-net isn't going anywhere so that will still be around and impacting them. Hopefully the hatred of Seekers will go away with the memories of Praxus' destruction, but I bet he'll still like a pretty pair of wings. He'll still probably want a trio and enjoy having his neck bitten."

Wing nodded thoughtfully. "As long as he can adapt to changing laws. Holding to the Praxian laws of his creation will be a problem."

"No kidding," Jazz made a face. "I guess there might be some that are hard coded, but I can't imagine much would be. Laws change. It'd be expensive as the pit to have to replace the entire Enforcers every time a law was changed or added."

Wing nodded quickly, "That would be impractical even for the most decadent leadership. Hopefully we can find him a place in the city Peacekeepers or the Knights. His penchant for discipline and order would be welcome there."

Jazz nodded and tried to think back, going over every conversation, snarling match and verbal exchange he'd had with the mech. Eventually he sighed. "Truth is, I really don't know the mech well. We got off on a bad wheel and never really settled in. You've gotten bits of it when we're linked up. Mech doesn't like me. I can work with him, but I don't _get_ him."

Wing pondered what he'd experienced during their time as Flightplan and the merge with Prowl, "Although he prone to aggression and violence now, his spark is one of the most serene I've ever merged with, and I am fairly certain he will be closer to his spark in temperament when this is over. The gestalt coding will remain intact once the reformat is completed, so you will have plenty of time and opportunities to get to know him without the war damage."

"Without _his_ war damage," Jazz's smile wasn't nearly as bitter as his tone or field. "Mine's not going anywhere. But I can fake being a good mech as well as I can fake anything. Playing a part's pretty natural for me now."

"What would you be like without war damage?" Wing prodded gently, hoping this unusual openness would last.

The bitter laugh he received wasn't what he hoped for.

"No clue. Before the war damage was street damage. I didn't have it as bad as Deadlock, but I was still a street sparkling until Whiplash picked me up."

Wing knew they pair had given him only hints of what it was like on the streets, and he still couldn't imagine how Deadlock and Jazz had survived living that kind of life. It did explain the odd friendliness he occasionally noted between the pair. They might be from different sides in the war, but they seemed to recognize a vague kinship of experience. "You'll have time to learn how to be a real civilian even if you start by faking it. Some who are Knights now came to the Citadel with war trauma, although it sounds like Cybertron has become worse than we could have imagined before we left."

"Really?" Jazz perked up. "Designations?"

Wing thought for a bit before answering, "I don't know most of the ones who chose to live as civilians very well, but Dai Atlas, Axe, Coldbolt, Shogun and Sureshock are all Knights who all fought in wars. Knight Kimark was a gladiator not a soldier but some of the same principles still apply. The six who joined us since the city was founded are Bluesweep, Sound Burst, Windlock, Songbird and Bellaria. Crashcourse tried to escape and was deactivated in the process, and Sound Burst was reformatted so if you knew him one don't be surprised if he doesn't know you. You'll like Bellaria, he makes some of the best sweets, and he often saved treats for me between visits."

"I knew Windlock before the war. Not well, but she was one of the more honorable slavers around. What's she doing now?" Jazz asked as he picked apart the designations he didn't know.

Wing shrugged, "We don't allow slavery in Aelios, but she seems to have adjusted to the new rules. She raises a variety of pets, both organic and mechanoid, and sells them. Actually, she's one of the organic fuel suppliers we'll want to meet with about the Raccipi if we raise them."

Jazz nodded. "Glad she's doing well. She was a decent sort. Is there anything like the Raccipi on Aelios? Predatory organic avians."

Wing grinned, "Yeah. I've never seen their species before, but there are a few mecha that keep organic pets, and avians are popular with the fliers and a few Praxians. I've been reading up on them. Deadlock already volunteered to help teach them to hunt if we take care of them."

"Something I'm good at too. I even know how to use a glider. You and TC can teach them to fly. Prowl can teach them to be good citizens. How hard are you thinking of trying to claim them?" Jazz cocked his helm. "I know you want to."

"I've been fascinated by organic pets for a while but rarely have one personally. Bringing the Raccipi to the city is kind of a risky move, but it shows responsibility and accountability on our part since we did offline their creators," Wing hesitated for a moment before continuing, "Also, I've never heard of only one member of a gestalt being reformatted, and I don't know how our coding is going to respond when Prowl is undergoing the procedure. I figure they'll be a good distraction for us during that time."

"Huh, yeah, I suppose so. Assuming we aren't in stasis with him. Reformatting doesn't take long. Usually only a breem or two. A joor at most," Jazz pointed out.

"How do...."

"Cause it was one of my duties," Jazz shrugged. "War-time Ops isn't a pretty place. Sometimes reformatting is the only way."

Wing shrugged briefly. "I only knew the process was highly restricted, and the relearning phase takes time. That's when I figured we could really use a distraction since I doubt we will be allowed to raise Prowl. The more I ponder it the more certain I become that Dai Atlas will want him placed with some of the Praxians."

"That or Knights," Jazz nodded. "He's the kind of mech you want in a highly disciplined environment and I can't imagine someone like the general wouldn't recognize his value and danger in the wrong hands."

"Deadlock and I will be living in the Citadel where we can be monitored. If three of the five of us are there with two as Initiates that would give Dai Atlas another way to legitimately keep a long-term optic on our gestalt without resorting to spies," Wing agreed.

Jazz nodded thoughtfully. "I know TC will want to settle with the Seekers if he's allowed, which is sounds like he'd be expected to, especially after he trines again. Any thoughts on where I should recharge?"

Wing thought a bit, "There's a couple of good clubs in the Praxian district. If you can get a job entertaining it might be close enough to the Seekers to consider, although they're a bit close knit and aloof with outsiders so finding a place to live there would normally be a bit trickier. Still, the do seem to like wings, and we do have Prowl, myself and Thundercracker in the gestalt. That might make it easier on you, especially if we drop by and visit fairly often."

"True, though I was kinda hoping for somewhere that I didn't have to rely on good graces to get along. Somewhere that isn't owned by a city, or maybe Iacon, Crystal City, Polyhex ... somewhere that I don't look out of place."

Wing nodded, "I can see where that would be annoying after a while. There's a mixed district near the Citadel, although that would put you back under greater scrutiny since a lot of Knights pass through that area. It might be a good place to start out in once you're initially allowed out in the city unsupervised, but I don't know if you'd want to stay there long for that reason. Oh, you could look over by Bellaria's sweet shop. I know there's a few Iaconians living around there."

Jazz nodded. "Sounds like my best bet is going to involve a lot of driving. Anywhere it wouldn't be safe for me to be? Not worried about getting hurt, but it wouldn't look good if I got into a fight."

"Nothing I can think of. There really isn't anywhere that mecha pick fights like that. Overcharged bar brawls and the occasional mech that snaps, but we honestly don't have much by way of crime, gangs and the like. We screened for that extensively," Wing explained. "Seekers might not like you around, Praxians might ignore you as a snub, others might do similar things if they don't like outsiders, but violence isn't tolerated."

"That'll be a big change for all of us," Jazz said. "It's been a long time since violence was frowned on let alone discouraged back on Cybertron, even between our own ranks. It might get you brig time, but that didn't stop mechs from fighting. The Decepticons are even more aggressive than the Autobots; Deadlock's going to have a rough time adjusting. Might be a good thing having him in the Citadel with you."

"That was my thought. As he is there is no way he would be allowed into the civilian city. He's simply too dangerous. Even if he never becomes a Knight, I hope to instill enough discipline in him to keep him from picking too many brawls. The city really isn't equipped to deal with someone like him. The Knights know how to handle his type," Wing said with as much hope as certainty. "We've got more than a few."

"Giving him someone to spar with who can put up a decent fight will go a long way to keeping him content, add in good energon and he might actually wind up being happy to be there," Jazz chuckled. "So, you said you like clubbing and dancing; do you have any of the music on you?"

"Just pulled from memory files," Wing nodded. "You?"

Jazz grinned, "I've got a lot of prewar music, and I've also got some stuff put out since you left if you're interested in listening."

"Totally," Wing grinned back. "Lots of music has been created since we left. I don't have the best quality, but I'll share." He stood and offered a hand to Jazz. "Dance with me?"

"Let's have some fun, mech," Jazz took Wing's hand and moved them out into the open sparring area, activating his speakers to play one of his favorite modern dance pieces. As the music started they pair began to move.

* * *

Wing settled down in the chair across from Jazz. "I've been thinking about your question on neighborhoods once you're settled in on Aelios. I'm think you might like living in New Tesarus over by Bellaria's shop even though it would be a drive to visit the rest of us. There are a couple of edgier clubs over there with a bit of a rough reputation, although you'd probably find them tame compared to what you're used to. Most of the Knights don't visit them often since they're further away."

"But I've got easy transport to any gestalt gatherings by air," Jazz grinned at him. "So for the city it's kinda a rough, lower working class area?"

Wing nodded, "A lot of industrial workers settled there since it's relatively close to their jobs, so you'd have a lot of larger neighbors, convoy class and the like. They tend to be a bit reserved around outsiders initially, but it isn't snobbish like some of the Praxians. I know a few of them although not very well, but I think they'll like your wit and respect your fighting skills."

"A lot like Tyger Pax is, then," Jazz nodded. "I'll look into it. Those districts tend not to pay dancers well though. Not that I can't live on that income, but it'd be nice to be able to afford an oil soak and treats more than once a vorn."

Wing shrugged, conceding the point. "It might work as a home base if you got a job a district over that paid better. For example, Neo Altihex is close by and uses a lot of the parts made in New Tesarus. Mechs make more credits and like a show, but I know it's expensive to live there."

"Now that's a game plan I know well. It's all about balancing what you save in rent and energon with the extra fuel and maintenance of driving further. Just how stable are fuel prices around the city?" Jazz asked.

"Mostly stable with cost differences primarily on local brews and available high grades." Wing thought for a bit before saying, "There's also some differences in additives based on what the local favorites happen to be. The city leaders try to keep too many discrepancies from artificially developing since lack of fuel is a fast way to discontent. Biggest cost of living differences between districts are the size of place and available amenities. That's one reason so many of the convoy class tend to cluster together; it's easier to find suitable housing if it's mostly built with your frame in mind."

"No doubt. There's good reason that such a huge percentage of flight frames congregated in only three cities and anything bigger than a convoy was likely in Tyger Pax or a special district," Jazz nodded. "Accommodating the bigger and smaller frames became quite the trick when we didn't have the population to really spread them out anymore. Where do the minibots congregate?"

"Protihex and Kalis, although there are clusters of them in most of the other districts," Wing pondered a klik. "Actually, I think most of them are in Yuss which is surrounded by those two. I'm taller than a lot of the mecha that live there."

Jazz grinned. "That must be a bit odd. You're hardly a tall mech."

"Well yeah, but one of my friends, another Knight, has a turbofox alt. She's barely past my knee in root mode," Wing giggled. "I'm used to small, and very used to tall."

"A microbot is a Knight?" Jazz cycled his optics. "Is her host one?"

"Her host?" Wing looked at him blankly before it clicked. "Oh, no, she's not a symbiont. She's just tiny. But yes, she's about the same size as the bipedal symbionts I know."

"She must be from a very rare frame type because I haven't seen anyone like that on Cybertron in a very long time," Jazz grinned having recovered from his surprise.

"Just remember she's a fully trained Knight. Demeter might be interested in some fun if you don't treat her like a prize in a competition," Wing said, suddenly a bit more serious.

Jazz cycled his optics again. "Okay. Got it. Might be up for fun, but I'm not that into the whole conquest thing. It got old and pointless a long, long time ago. Not that I don't play it now and then, but it's a personal thing, and game we're both in." He huffed. "I hope that makes better sense than it sounded like."

"It does, and I'm sorry for implying otherwise," Wing let his regret tinge his field. "It's just I've seen too many either try to ignore her because of her size or act like she's a rare energon treat. Demeter is fully capable of taking care of herself, but she is someone I would like to have on our side when we arrive."

"Ops broke me of that bad habit early on. Nothing quite like having your boss and trainer be half your height and a quarter your mass to drill it into that size isn't important. Might want to mention that to the others. They're likely to assume what I did, that she's a symbiont," Jazz suggested. 

"I'll make certain to let them know," Wing agreed. "There are some Hosts in different districts in the city but currently none in the Knights."

"Because of Knight culture, or just something that they're not inclined to for other reasons?" Jazz was curious now.

Wing had to settle back and really think about it. "I think it's because they're so few and usually raised into a function. Nothing in the Code of Light or Knight culture I can think of would reject one. It would be a difficult thing to be one's Daoshi, but not as difficult as it was to be one for a spark-bonded mecha who's mate was also training."

Jazz nodded. "I knew one that would have probably thrived in your Order, but he's a long way away and severely corrupted by now."

"It's a shame he didn't find us before that happened," Wing said. "It is regrettable when anyone becomes that corrupted, but a Host can do a great deal of harm when they falter."

"Understatement of the war," Jazz shuddered. "Soundwave is the Con's TIC. Seriously scary mech. The only real advantage we had is that our primary Host, Blaster, is a stronger 'path. Just not nearly as ruthless."

"At least he's there to counter Soundwave and still has his scruples," Wing offered. "Trying to fight a Host without another of comparable capability on your side can be extremely difficult and dangerous."

"You've tried, or just theory talking?" Jazz cocked his helm with a curious brush of his field.

Wing shook his head, "Personally I haven't fought one in such circumstance, but I know we lost several of the Knights when they had to hold one off during the Exodus. I don't know if it was Soundwave or another in the Decepticon ranks, but most of those that did survive were badly damaged."

Jazz nodded and sorted through his memories and the bits he had from Wing and Prowl. "I think it was Soundwave. Most 'paths I've come across or heard about found Megatron very disturbing despite his charisma and that he was sane early on. Not even Blaster could explain it, but I think that 'paths get some kind of vibe about instability before anyone else can pick it up."

"So Soundwave was probably broken before the war?" Wing guessed.

Jazz shook his helm. "I don't think so. From what I heard he was decommissioned but not destroyed by the city that had ordered him. He would have latched onto the first strong mind that seemed willing to lead him. Unfortunately that was Megatron."

Wing sighed, "Desperation is one of the fastest ways to fall into temptation, especially when one has lost their function. That's another thing we're trying to prevent in Aelios by preventing overcrowding."

"Not having any sparked mecha will help that a lot too," Jazz said grimly. "They're a huge chunk of those who went Con out of desperation. Made life worth so very little."

Wing nodded, "The more I hear from the four of you the more I become convinced that it's a very good thing we can't produce any more sparked mecha. Before the Exodus some were concerned about filling the roles they normally held in Cybertronian societies, but for the most part those created on Aelios are filling those functions and keeping everything running smoothly. I guess it also helps that we aren't confining mecha to certain districts or roles. Just because most convoy class prefer to work in industry or heavy transport doesn't mean they all have to."

Jazz nodded. "Yeah. I'm sure a combination of suitable frame and sparkline inclinations have a lot to do with it. How do you fill the really nasty gigs? Stuff like sewers, cleaning smelters and garbage collecting that nobody sane wants to do?"

Wing shrugged, "In the Citadel they are rotating tasks almost every Knight has to do unless physically incapable of the task. Among the civilians those are some of the better paying occupations. It's interesting how many mecha are willing to do a nastier job when it pays two or three times more."

Jazz chuckled, the humor both dark and honest. "Of that I have no doubt. So a seriously sucky job and live better than you imagined. Not a bad idea. We wouldn't have had a war if the wealthy believed in paying a good wage for the work, or even just a living wage. Sparks were too cheap to bother," he sighed. "So what are the other fun things to do? Besides clubs and legal drugs."

Wing grinned and leaned towards Jazz, "There's lots of things to do if you don't mind exploring some. New Ibex has some really great racing tracks at pro or just friendly race levels some of the Knights occasionally watch or join. New Praxus has the best amateur tracks and free drive parks. We've got all kinds of vids to watch; both the classics from Cybertron and new productions. Every district has several parks to explore and enjoy, all different kinds. There are several art galleries that put on semi-regular shows. I sometimes like just flying around the city, and there are some friendly flight competitions as well. If you get along with formal education there are plenty of schools for higher learning and trade schools too. The Diploma system is still used, but the costs were set based on actual costs and there are scholarships for those with merit."

Jazz purred softly at the thought of so much to do. "Who pays for the scholarships?"

"Mmm, the government does some. Others are from groups or individuals. The schools probably offer a few for the tax breaks."

"You tax schools?" Jazz cycled his optics.

"Everyone who earns a profit is taxed. The more you earn, the more you pay," Wing shrugged.

"Even Knights?"

"Well, not in credits. Our stipend isn't enough for that, but our duties are considered our payment. We pay in time," Wing explained.

"And the rich actually pay those taxes?" Jazz asked doubtfully.

"Yes, we tried to learn from the problems of the past. They are not only expected to pay but are fined or imprisoned if they don't. Many of them use giving to charities as a source of bragging rights. It's not perfect, but it seems to work well so far," Wing said. "It helps that everyone who came agreed to play by the rules and we really did look at their behavior before letting them come. It's a major reason that we don't have many nobles and none of them are exceptionally wealthy. They had to start at the same level as everyone else once we landed."

Jazz just sort of stared at him, trying to comprehend the noble that would agree to that, much less the one who's manage.

"Mirage." He eventually murmured to himself.

"Who?" Wing cocked his helm.

"One of my agents. Had been a minor second creation noble when the Towers fell. He came to me with no skills, no armor, no weapons and no idea how to survive. All he had was an EM disruptor and a will to survive. The first bought him a chance in my division. Anything that can turn invisible and undetectable has some value as a spy. It took him a long time, but he's my SIC now ... was my SIC. Now he'd be in charge," Jazz explained. "I was trying to imagine the noble that would do what you described. Mirage would have, and he'd have made it."

"Yes, if he has that kind of will to survive he sounds like someone that would have made it in Aelios," Wing agreed. "I almost wish we could go to Cybertron and return with some of these mecha, but the reality is we wouldn't be able to bring them and even trying would probably get us trapped there."

"Yeah. There are a lot of good mecha that would do very well on Aelios as you've described it," Jazz teeked sadly. "A lot of Autobots and a few Cons. The really sad thing is, with General Dai Atlas at the helm, the third faction he could gather would win the war."

Wing thought for a long moment before saying, "I don't know if we could convince him to return to Cybertron even with the possibility of saving it. Dai Atlas is one of those opposed to contact with the rest of the universe."

"Given he's trying for a pacifist society, it's not a bad idea not to talk to anyone. At least not until the universe has gotten over the war," Jazz sighed. "It wasn't a suggestion so much as a statement. Even if it's true. It was true back when the Citadel on Cybertron was attacked too."

"It's wishful thinking on my part that we could help some of the others when reality says otherwise," Wing leaned forward towards Jazz. "Dai Atlas might have been able to unite a third side to the war if we stayed, but we decided the destruction of the war would be too complete and the decision was made to save what we could."

"And it turned out he was right. You can't call what's left on any side civilization and there really isn't much by way of habitation either," Jazz huffed. "And apparently I'm in a self-torture mood. Keep going back to bad things."

"Would you rather go back to talking of more pleasant things like what to expect when we arrive? We do have similar interests in entertainment. You've played me a few songs from Cybertron; would you like to hear some music from Aelios? I don't have a lot of tunes with me, but what I do have I could use to teach you a few dances," Wing offered.

Jazz perked up completely and actually teeked excited. "Yes. _So_ yes," he grinned and got to his pedes with a hand out to Wing. "Show me some new moves."

Wing took the hand and followed Jazz over to the training area.


	7. Shift 7: Thundercracker/Wing

Lounging in the large berth with a lightly recharging Wing snuggled against his chest and under his wing, Thundercracker drifted happily. He still missed having a trine, sometimes more desperately than others, but at least he had some company some of the time. Wing seemed convinced Thundercracker's problem would be solved once they were settled on Aelios. Thundercracker wasn't convinced it would be that easy, his fledgling often seemed so naive compared to his flockmates, but the Seeker had hopes he would eventually be able to court his third trine. Hope was all he had. Hope and his small, strange flock.

Wing began to stir, the little flier relaxed and slow to boot as always. It felt good though, to be next to a field that didn't assume the worst even before booting up.

Eventually the little Aerial stretched a bit before peering cheerfully up at him. "Good orn, Thundercracker. You recharge well?"

"Yes. It is always easier to recharge with your field there," Thundercracker rumbled and nuzzled him. "We can leave once the orders have been delivered, but do you want to spend time here? The logs say it's been one of the few mecha friendly ports."

"I did see a few mechanoids with similar frame-types to yours when I was out before. Maybe the two of us could go exploring for a bit, or you could go on your own and get off the ship for a while," Wing offered.

Thundercracker's engines purred at the thought. "I'd like to go out with you. Maybe we'll be lucky and meet some agreeable company."

Wing stretched and started shifting on the berth, "We should probably get cleaned up soon. We should have some time to socialize before the first orders are supposed to arrive."

"Agreed," Thundercracker stretched, stood and stretched his wings through their full rotation. "Today is an orn for a good wax and polish."

"We need to make you look particularly good today," Wing said as he climbed off the berth and followed the Seeker to the washrack.

* * *

As they walked to the most mechanoid-friendly bar in the station, one that actively advertised that it was for mechanoids, something caught Thundercracker's attention enough for a wing display. It wasn't one Wing recognized exactly, but he was sure it was some sort of flirting. A careful look around pinpointed a white and black flier that Wing would classify as a Seeker. He made certain to give his own friendly greeting but kept back allowing Thundercracker to take the lead. It was fascinating watching this previously unseen side of the Seeker, and he wanted to learn more.

The black and white flier hurried past them towards the docks with just a small flick of acknowledgment as she passed. It wasn't quite a brushoff but definitely showed a lack of immediate interest.

"She's in a hurry. Must be late getting back to the ship," Wing offered.

"Or I'm just not her type. She's not a war-build," he responded smoothly, his field saying it really didn't bother him. "Even before things went to the Pit I had heavy armor. Half my flock was military and the other half Air Martials. Even our Visions were well-armored, large and aggressive."

Wing nodded, "I can see where that kind of flock could be intimidating to a civilian, especially one that's never dealt with someone who's seen combat. Knights occasionally have problems interacting with others."

"I'm not surprised," Thundercracker hummed his understanding even as he flicked a friendly greeting to a passing flight frame of some kind that was most definitely not Cybertronian. "From what you've told me Knights barely interact with anyone outside their caste. You've got quite a different culture than most."

"True, we usually interact with outsiders while trying to relax or helping the Peacekeepers pick up troublemakers," Wing nodded his own brief greeting to a grounder that could have been Cybertronian as they brushed past, taking note of how Thundercracker ignored any passing mecha without wings. It wasn't the best thing, but at least his field remained smooth. Neutrality towards grounders was progress for the Seeker.

They both paused just inside the bar to take it in. It was by far the largest collection of mechanoids either had seen in vorns and it felt good. A dozen races were there at a minimum, likely more, and if you had an open processor on the subject a quarter of them could pass for Cybertronians. Some might actually be Cybertronians, or from a colony.

Their entrance drew attention from almost everyone just for walking in. Wing got a glance, but Thundercracker, much larger and standing as an aggressive warrior, got much more of the attention to determine if he was going to be trouble. A pair of grounders in the corner glared at the Seeker while what could almost have been a convoy class straightened up over by a corner. Wing watched them closely but none seemed to be ready to pick a fight just yet.

Once again Thundercracker focused his attention on the clusters of fliers, and many of them were paying attention to him as well. Four small flight frames over by the bar pulled their wings down, obviously intimidated by the Seeker. Thundercracker gave a flick of acceptance and every flier in the room relaxed. Their response helped the grounders settle while Thundercracker's attention shifted to a pair that looked like Seekers to Wing. A few wing-flicks and Wing held down a giggle at the flirting. 

He left Thundercracker for the bar and ordered two drinks, both solar with gold dust, and was pleased when the bartender's teek was friendly and relaxed. While he waited for the cubes, Wing took the opportunity to watch the red and gold Seeker checking out Thundercracker's frame. The lighter armored silver and blue one was a bit more subtle although he was still sending interested wing-flicks towards the new Seeker. He had to smile as Thundercracker walked towards the pair and took their invitation to sit down. The silver and blue one even pointed a companion at an unused chair to bring over and put it next to Thundercracker.

"So how'd a grounder end up with one of those big fliers?" a mid-sized grounder sitting next to Wing asked. 

"Huh? Oh, I'm not a grounder; I'm a stunt flier," Wing said with a grin and flicked his slender, short wings from their tight Z tuck as he leaned against the bar watching the trio. "More like a racing frame than a normal flier."

"Ah," the grounder nodded and returned to his drink.

"Here," the bartender delivered the two cubes, one sized for Wing and one for Thundercracker.

Wing paid and picked up the two cubes, debating for a moment before approaching Thundercracker. He didn't really want to interrupt his fun, especially since the Seeker didn't get many chances to socialize outside their gestalt right now. Still, that chair had to have been brought over for him. No one else was claiming it.

The pair looked over at him as he approached the Seeker and the lighter silver and blue one motioned to the chair. Thundercracker accepted his cube and at that range there was no way to miss he was anticipating tonight quite a bit.

"These are Starburst and Solar Flare," Thundercracker introduced the pair. "They are also visiting Tredje Stolpe to pick up supplies."

"A pleasure to meet such an attractive pair of fliers," Wing grinned at them, taking a small drink to savor his cube.

"So are we angling for a threesome or foursome?" Starburst grinned at the pair and took a drink of his half-finished cube.

Solar Flare rolled his optics. "Ignore the walking interface drive. It's nice to see a new face with such a nice set of wings."

"Count me out of the foursome idea, although you two are certainly attractive enough to tempt me," Wing said reluctant to miss the chance but not wanting to cut in on Thundercracker's chances. "I'm not interfacing with my adopted creator."

"Too bad but understandable," Starburst turned his full attention to Thundercracker. "So, how long are you going to be here?"

"Likely a local day," Thundercracker answered, careful to use terms that wouldn't track back to Cybertron. "Our supplies have been bought and should all be delivered by night."

"Another reason I won't be joining in," Wing added with a smile. "I'll be able to see to any deliveries."

Solar Flare's engine rumbled briefly as he said, "All our supplies have already been delivered, and we were intending to set out soon. We do have some leeway in our schedule for time with some company if you're interested."

"I'm interested," Thundercracker rumbled deeply, his field full of desire. "Though before any of us become too eager, what methods do you use?"

"Jumpers and field play primarily when it's for fun," Starburst answered quickly with a leer, "Although tactile can be a great way to stimulate a partner."

"We're accepting of many options as long as it's enjoyable to all parties involved," Solar Flare added.

"Tactile and field play is good with me," Thundercracker's rumble deepened as he sipped on his energon and returned Starburst's leer. "Jumpers can be dicey. I've gotten circuits fried in a bad way."

"Compatibility can be an issue with jumpers especially since we aren't from the colony," Solar Flare agreed.

"So, your ship, ours or should we find a room together?" Starburst reached over, brushing his field against Thundercracker.

"A room. Our ship is a bit full and I don't know you yet," Thundercracker suggested but didn't demand. It was the first real risk, a warning that he was less than trusting or had secrets, but it was an option offered him.

"We also won't get interrupted by deliveries or calls," Solar Flare acknowledged with a wing dip.

Wing finished his cube, pleased at the acceptance of Thundercracker's choice. It was unlikely the pair would turn on Thundercracker, but Jazz and Deadlock had both drilled a bit more caution into him. He'd run a check on them in the port's systems while the trio were occupied. He was also ready to quick boot Jazz and Deadlock if Thundercracker called for help. Wing was a good fighter, exceptional by formal standards, but he wasn't a warrior like the others. He had limits they had to problems crossing and would gladly do so to protect him from having to.

"Or that," Thundercracker smiled slightly. "The rest of our crew are grounders. I haven't had a good 'face in ages. I hope you're up for it. Are you here often?"

Starburst let his distaste flicker through his field, "You poor thing; we'll get your problem taken care of immediately. I don't know how you stand it being stuck with them. There's a decent place two corridors down towards the docks. It'll at least have a clean berth and there's a public washrack nearby that's actually worth the credits. It has a really nice hot mineral oil pool. Wing, we can help you find a couple of decent partners if you want."

"He's going to be busy working today," Solar Flare reminded his partner patiently, even though his own distaste was briefly visible.

"For later then," Starburst waved away the other's concern. "You need to get a decent overload as well if you're stuck with a bunch of grounders."

"Maybe we'll say and extra night and I'll play with you," Wing offered-suggested. "If Thundercracker thinks you're good enough for me," he added with teasing harmonics.

"If you want, we can stay," Thundercracker dipped his wings in acceptance.

"Then we'll see. I'll check out that washrack and ping you what I think," Wing offered and got a nod and flick of thanks as he finished his energon.

Abruptly Thundercracker paused. "Not to be rude, but this is for fun, not pay, correct?"

"If I was into being paid this would still be a freebie cause you're just that good looking," Starburst grinned.

Solar Flare groaned, "You have a terrible sense of humor, Star. This is for all of us to have a good time and to help you out."

Thundercracker relaxed. "Good. I've got nothing again it, but it's not the kind of night I'm after right now. I miss having kin around."

Solar Flare smile and stood, offering a hand to Thundercracker that was accepted. "Then let's give you some good memories to last you until we meet again."

"I like that," Thundercracker rumbled eagerly and willingly left with the pair.

They led him quickly towards the hotel, desire dancing through their fields as they drew closer to their destination. The mecha they passed moved out of their way almost unnoticed; no one wanted the hassle from disrupting the intent trio of fliers. It didn't take long for them to reach their destination, and Solar Flare diverted his attention from them to claim a room for the rest of the night.

* * *

Thundercracker stood in front of the viewport staring out at empty space as they left Tredje Stolpe behind. They had picked up all the supplies they needed and a few treats for later without any trouble. He'd even gotten to leave the ship and wander around for a change. Why did he feel so hollow now?

His trine code was itchy. The pair he'd played with were close enough to trigger the needy code, though only faintly. They looked right, but thankfully they weren't broadcasting. He was beginning to doubt he could turn down an offer to trine without serious personal issues with the Seeker.

Could that be it? He kind of hoped it was because that meant it would fade soon enough.

"Thundercracker?" Wing's voice held concern.

Without turning, he answered quietly, "Yes, Wing?" It sounded like the fledgling might need him, but there was nothing on the ship that could harm him. Nothing active but the two of them and the autopilot.

"Are you okay? You haven't been yourself since we left," Wing clarified.

Thundercracker sighed, "I'm fine, Wing. It's just a reaction to being cooped back up in this ship."

The smaller mech's hand reached out to rub the small of Thundercracker's back as Wing came close and offered his field to lean on. "Would you have preferred to not have gone out?"

Thundercracker thought about it for a long moment before answering, "No, it was good to get out of here and stretch my legs even if I couldn't use my wings much. It just itches being back in confinement even if it is by choice."

Wing nodded, his field rich with understanding. "We have what should be a good system to fly around in next decaorn. We can fly around in space if it gets too itchy."

"Maybe that will help," Thundercracker said pressing back into the comfort of Wing's field.

"Then why don't we go out flying for a bit when we're in deep space again. Next orn," Wing suggested.

"Yes, it will do us good to get outside and use our wings," Thundercracker fell silent as they stood staring out at the stars.

* * *

Thundercracker's wings were vibrating as Wing settled them into a careful orbit around a gas giant with a score of moons, many the size of rocky planets if they'd orbited a sun rather than this huge planet. It wouldn't just give them space to fly but it would gave them as many environments as they cared to indulge in while they did so.

"Ready to go?" Wing chirped as he walked up, his manner and field both excited.

"Yes," Thundercracker answered immediately, certain this would solve his problem. It would also stop his fledgling from worrying about him. Activating the airlock, the pair launched out into space, heading for one of the smaller, icy moons. It felt good to be powered by his thrusters, even in space without much gravity or atmosphere to work against. It was completely different flying than near a planet, but it was still flight.

It wasn't long before the pull of the moon's gravity began to alter how they flew. Then the bite of the upper atmosphere as they began to encounter enough particles to really feel it. It was cold. It was sharp. It felt _good_ on his wings. Thundercracker kicked into a steep dive before pulling up, reveling in the defiance of gravity as they mastered the skies above this barren world. An icy blast shot into the air as an ice geyser erupted off to the right of them, spewing out more cold crystals into the thin atmosphere. Wing danced around him, playing with the icy sprays and as unafraid and skilled a flier as any Seeker Thundercracker had known, except one.

Pain lanced through his spark and it drew Wing close, concerned but not pushing.

::You fly as well as any Seeker other than my second Vision. Starscream was the fastest, most agile and skilled Seeker in a generation, if not more,:: Thundercracker just explained.

::And he liked to play, to show off,:: Wing didn't really have to guess.

::It kept it in everyone's processor why he was Air Commander. That he had the title because he was the best,:: Thundercracker agreed.

::I'm sorry,:: Wing murmured. ::I never thought...::

::No. You play. Fly. Enjoy your wings and the freedom we have. It won't be for long. We'll both be a long time before we feel the wind again once we reach your home.:: Thundercracker insisted.

To prove he meant what he said, he cycled up his powerful thrusters and shot forward, daring Wing to chase him as he headed towards another icy plum rising off in the distance. This active, icy world was so different from flying high over Cybertron. This would have been such an interesting place for Flightplan to explore if they dared bring Prowl out of stasis. They'd have to show the gestalt their memories; let him at least vicariously experience a world he would never see.

Wing's field perked up immediately and he darted forward, quickly overtaking Thundercracker and began dancing around him. Playful and radiating youth like this, it was occasionally difficult to believe the mech was older than Thundercracker's creators and as deadly as anything the war had produced. It was a different kind of deadly compared to the rest of their strange flock. Wing was a mech who fought to defend and protect. His first instinct seemed to be to protect life, not take it the way the war had changed so many like Prowl...and himself. The former Air Marshall had to admit that he had fallen far from the ideals of his previous life.

At least one of them would have a chance at undoing the damage of the war. He envied Prowl that even though he wasn't willing to take the step himself. He'd adapt as he always had. He'd have a flock to help him, even if he would never again be allowed to lead. It stunk, to go from a position of authority that he'd held in some form since he was a mechling to being the very lowest rank and knowing that he would never be allowed to rise further.

There was still hope there, hope of a flock. Hope of a sane trine. Hope of a future.

That hope was really all he had left; that and this strange gestalt he was encumbered with now. Cybertron was effectively gone. He'd never fly its familiar skies again, and the Seekers he had known and flown with for so long were effectively offline. It was the destruction of Vos all over again and even worse, at least until he'd been accepted by his new flock. He had to focus on that. He'd get to fly with a real flock again, not just fragged up military duty trines that had all but forgotten what Seekers should be. He told himself it was a good thing that pair hadn't included a Vision; he might have started broadcasting himself. Trying to bring two strange mechanoids to Aelios would just have been asking for even more trouble. There'd be a Vision in the city who'd accept him and his strange flock. There had to be.

Wing looped around Thundercracker as they arched through the icy spray from the geyser, tingling chills dancing across their plating. With little thought to it Thundercracker hit his afterburners and shot forward, following the curve of the planet as his speed climbed to its peek. He knew, abstractly, that Wing had a far better mass to thrust ratio than he did, but to experience it in the form of the little Aerial spiraling around him playfully until he was up to two thirds his max was enlightening. As was it was the much smaller mech began to fall behind as the speed climbed.

Wing accelerated a lot faster, maneuvered better, but had a noticeably lower top speed. It was exactly what a stunt frame should be like.

::Do you still want to fly here or head to another moon and see what it's like?:: Wing asked as he trailed behind the Seeker.

::Another moon sounds good.:: Thundercracker replied and swiveled to come around next to Wing. ::Any sound good to you?::

Wing thought a klik about the readings from their ship, before answering, ::The nearby larger one is seismically active. The thermals should be an interesting challenge for us.::

::Sounds very enjoyable,:: Thundercracker's rumbling purr carried to Wing.

* * *

Thundercracker waited quietly for Wing to finish monitoring their course and come join him in the viewing room for a cube before they retired to recharge. There wasn't much for the Seeker to do during these long periods off shift; it was difficult for the pair to spar properly in this confinement.

"Hay there," Wing chirped a greeting as he came in and claimed his cube.

"Everything went satisfactory?" Thundercracker asked as he stared at his mostly full cube. It was an idle question given he would have heard if something went wrong, but there was little else to talk about with just the two of them active. Mostly he just wanted to sit next to his fledgling and draw the last bits of comfort from his active field before Jazz came online in a decaorn.

"Yes," Wing happily snuggled up against his side. "Have you thought about how we're going to teach the Raccipi to fly? We're not exactly suited for going that slow."

"Well, we could pay someone with an organic pet to have it do the job," Thundercracker tried to interject a bit of humor into the subject but being reduced to teaching organics was humiliating. That the organics in question had wings did help a little. "Or we could work on it initially without taking wing ourselves. Having them watch an organic avian pet or two would probably help them figure out how to move their wings. Organic flight is very different from our own."

"So true," Wing admitted readily. "They have such a fast learning cycle too. Raccipi should go from flapping instinctively in their nest to powered flight within six orns. Another orn or two and they should be functional fliers."

Thundercracker did not want to hear Wing's explanation of potential organic inbreeding problems again. It was disturbing how such fragile, short-lived frame types seemed to spread so quickly. "From what the records say these three should be able to tolerate living together as long as there is only one carrier present. Hopefully we'll have three of the creator types so eggs won't be an issue and they can safely trine." It left a sour taste that he was hoping the Raccipi would be able to become trine even as he was hoping to find one in Aelios.

"I'm going to make very sure there are no eggs," Wing said firmly. "Those parts are going to be removed. Though yes, if we are lucky all three will be of the same type, whether carrier or sire, so surgery won't be required." He paused and them hummed. "How good are you at sneaking around?"

Thundercracker rumbled his engine briefly, "I'm not the stealthiest flier by nature, but everyone had to learn some tactics during the war. Depending upon the circumstances, I can maintain a low profile but there are other Seekers and Aerials much better suited to those tactics than me. I do have a great deal of practice noticing such tactics." Internally he winced at the reminder of Skywarp's teleporting antics in flight and on the ground.

"Well, I'll help you practice so we can see the stars often enough for your needs. There's punishment for getting caught, but it's worth it," Wing trilled at the memories. "It'll be especially light for you at first."

Thundercracker felt a small bit of hope at the offer but cut it off ruthlessly. "Getting caught breaking the law is not going to improve my odds of finding a trine willing to accept me. My actions would reflect badly on the flock."

Wing thought about it, then nodded. "I saw a Seeker out once. I'll find him and you can talk to him about it. Even among the Knights it's thought of as no more serious than a juvenile thing some adults still do. Not good behavior, but not really criminal either as long as you're back before someone needs you. Once you know how Seekers view it you can decide if it's worth it. Sound good?"

Thundercracker's wings gave a small quiver as he said, "If it is truly not viewed as offensive and the flock I am attempting to join will tolerate it, than yes, being able to see the sky again would be wonderful."

"We'll make sure it's not a big deal before I show you how to get out," Wing promised. "I don't want you to be hurt. Is ... there anything else that's bothering you? About anything?"

Thundercracker thought for a moment before shaking his head, "Nothing that I didn't anticipate on this long trip. It was nice getting out at the last space port but far too few are as accepting of mechanoids, especially Cybertronians."

Wing nodded his understanding. "Does the stasis help?"

Thundercracker shrugged, "It makes the trip pass faster. I'd probably be stir crazy by now without it."

"Would you rather spend the rest of the trip in stasis? We can resort things. It's not a big deal," Wing promised.

Thundercracker bristled briefly at the offer even though he understood why Wing would make it. "No, I will not push my responsibilities onto the rest of you. I will continue to do my duty until we reach Aelios."

"All right," Wing murmured and snuggled closer. "Have you finished that new book file we got?"

"Not yet. Were you interested in reading it?" Thundercracker settled back into Wing's field, content knowing how happy the fledgling was right now.


	8. Shift 10: Deadlock/Wing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take note that we've begun to skip shifts.

Deadlock finished doctoring up a couple of cubes and headed to the viewing room. It wasn't like there was anything important going on right now since they were in a particularly empty part of their course, but Wing had said he wanted to try something new today and not to be late. Like anyone could be late in a ship this small. He stepped into the viewing room and paused when the door closed to watch Wing handing his largest sword vertically on the wall.

"Good timing," Wing turned and grinned at him. "I wanted to introduce you to an important part of being a Knight."

Deadlock stared at the sword for a moment before setting the cubes down on a table and directing his complete attention back to Wing. Something was definitely up. Wing didn't have a problem loaning his smaller swords to others for sparring or combat, but that sword he was particularly fussy about and didn't let any of them touch it.

"Drink. You'll need your energy for this, even though it's just meditation," Wing encouraged him.

"Meditation?" Deadlock asked before draining part of his cube. "You're expecting me to sit still and try not to go into recharge?"

"Honestly, no," Wing have him an understanding smile. "I just want you to give it a try."

Deadlock chugged the rest of the cube and set it aside. "Alright, what do I do now?"

Wing shifted his hand to show the light blue cord in it. Even at this distance Deadlock could tell it would break easily enough so he allowed Wing to put his forearms together, palms down, and wind the soft length in a complex pattern. Like so much Wing did, it was way more complex than needed and looking down at it against the white plating he couldn't help but be reminded of sparklight. Sure, it came in all sorts of colors, blue a huge number seemed to be blue.

"Settle on your knees in front of the Great Sword," Wing instructed carefully, always giving him the opening to back out or refuse.

There was almost definitely a catch to this, but Deadlock wasn't going to back down from a challenge especially one that sounded as simple as this. He moved forward to where Wing had indicated and knelt in front of the sword. At least the sword would give him something to stare at for a while before he dozed off during this meditation attempt. He resisted only briefly when Wing lifted his bound arms above him, then forced him to shifted and really stretch, no longer resting on his knees as the bonding was hooked behind the Great Sword.

"Relax, let your processor wonder. I'll be here the entire time," Wing instructed.

Well, he'd figured this would be different from anything he'd experienced before, and the position itself wasn't uncomfortable even if it was a bit awkward. Wing was one of the few mecha he honestly trusted being vulnerable around since the Aerial was so fragging naive. It wasn't as if he was _that_ vulnerable. This was safer than recharge, much less the stasis he voluntarily went into. Right now he was fully aware and the bindings weren't enough to actually hold him against his will. This was almost as safe as walking around.

It was still nothing he'd have permitted without that damn gestalt code messing with him, demanding he _trust_ these mecha. Like trust was anything good. Trust got you hurt once you got used to being safe. Losing Gasket had proven that to him early on down in the gutters. Once he'd begun to rely on the mech, the fool had gone and offlined on him. Relying on someone else was something fools did. He'd never trusted any of the Decepticons to really watch his back outside of combat and only mostly trusted them then. It was too easy for someone to stick a blade in your lines or swipe your energon when you weren't paying attention.

There'd only been one time the he'd felt fairly safe and strong. Engineer, a tiny femme with no combat skills to speak of, had managed it. She'd won his respect with her processor and kept it with consistency and giving him an outlet for his nature. She'd properly valued having him as part of her muscle, and she'd rewarded him with good energon and credits. He'd been able to live comfortably and no one outside her organization had been willing to cross them. He still missed what he'd had there in Simfur with her. It had been nice. Comfortable. It gave him a sense of pride few things had. He'd been important for the right reasons then. Respected and deferred to without having to worry about those who deferred stabbing him in the back.

Of all he'd seen and been through, _that_ was the part he always wanted to return to and always found himself moving further and further from.

He'd thought he'd found it again with Megatron who'd seemed to value his skills and wanted to make things better for the lower class. That had seemed like a way to get back what he'd lost once Engineer was gone. It was just his luck that joining the Decepticons had eventually placed him under Turmoil, the opposite of everything he wanted. How had that mess happened? Megatron was such a good leader when he was right there. Then for reasons Deadlock didn't understand he'd been sent away to a leader that he couldn't understand, much less respect.

Why did Engineer have to deactivate? Existence had been _good_ with her. He trusted her.

Like he trusted Wing. Mostly because of this gestalt coding, but it worked both ways. It might be making him trust the others, but it also made them trust him. Maybe this could be a solution to his problem. Wing was a ticket into this city, and the mech had some good fighting skills even if he was too naive. Thundercracker and Prowl were almost as competent as Engineer in their own ways, and they could fight too. With Jazz as the smooth face and himself as the muscle they could keep their little group safe and earn some respect from the locals. He could find an arena to keep up his skills and openly prove how dangerous he really was. Every city had arenas. Above or below ground, they all had them. In a city like Wing talked about where every intoxicant known was legal, surely they would be above ground. 

That could be really good. The five of them were strong, skilled and could get things done. It might not be perfect, but it'd be a damn sight better than Turmoil. He could really get to like an existence like that with a strong unit and plenty of fun, drugs and fighting to be had. A strong, dangerous unit that everyone on the streets know would pay back any mistreat with spilled energon. That would make this whole slave mess worth it.

Though Deadlock wasn't aware of it, a smile crossed his features as he relaxed despite the stress on his frame. He was only distantly aware when he began to move, laid down and his hands and wrists gently massaged to bring the color back to them.

After enjoying the massage for a bit he finally said, "If that's meditation I'm all for it."

"It is one of many kinds," Wing smiled, his field clear that he was happy that it had gone well. "Some are stressful. Some are not."

"Well that kind felt good," Deadlock muttered, knowing that his own field was probably calmer than it had been outside stasis in a very long time. "No wonder Knights do so much of it."

Wing smiled as he worked the color back into Deadlock's hands, then got the worn out but still happy mech to their berth to rest.

* * *

Wing danced around Deadlock on the sandy ground, keeping his blade pointed at the warrior even as he tried to get behind him. Deadlock was getting used to Wing's fighting style though and had so far been successfully keeping the Aerial within his sights. They'd been at it for a while now and both had cuts and dents from their efforts although nothing serious enough to stop their training. As the training rounds had progressed Deadlock had come to respect Wing's skill all the more, even as it frustrated the pit out of him. What often impressed him the most was how much pain and damage the lightly built jet could take without crying out.

Right now he thought of none of that. He was focused on trying to get past that blasted short sword and get his hands on Wing's frame.

The ground shifted under Wing's right pede as he dodged Deadlock's latest attack. It wasn't enough to destabilize him by any means, but it threw him just far enough off balance that Deadlock's sword made it past his parry attempt. The scratch was nothing, barely going past his paint, but it was still a solid victory for the grounder and Wing grinned at him.

"You're improving every match," Wing praised him honestly and with the pride of a teacher. "One strike left each."

Deadlock's field flashed briefly with pleasure at the praise, but his focus was solidly on the fight and how to end it with a win. He took in their surroundings again searching for any advantage. If Wing were an organic throwing sand in his optics would be a dirty but effective tactic. If this world had any kind of sludge on it that would work, but it was all dust here. Still....

With a lunge that came out of nowhere Deadlock grabbed a handful of small rocks and through them, then followed as fast as he could to take the opening reflex would gave him. Wing couldn't help flinching away from the distraction even as he tried to dodge the inevitable attack. This wasn't a tactic any of the Knights would use, but it was something some of their foes would undoubtedly try. Deadlock was once again reminding him why it would be so useful to train against his unconventional ways.

He felt the sharp nip of Deadlock's sword against the armor just below his shoulder joint. A finger's width higher and it would have been a crippling strike to his dominant side as the mass of cabling exposed there was cut.

"Well done," Wing beamed at him as he stepped back and relaxed into a neutral pose. "Many Knights will learn from you."

"Thanks," Deadlock said gruffly as he settled back pleased with his success against an opponent of Wing's caliber. "I'll be good at showing them how to fight dirty."

"You'll remind them how to fight in the real world not just a training session," Wing corrected gently.

"Same diff," Deadlock shrugged and flipped the short sword in his hand over with a natural movement that took most decades to develop to hand back to its owner. "Let's get the dents out and clean up."

"That's a great idea. I've got sand itching in my joints right now," Wing sheathed both swords and cheerfully followed Deadlock back into the ship. Despite the order it had been suggested, they both went right for the washrack and the promise of being grime free. Warm solvent rained down on them, sending the surface dust flowing down in small rivers.

Wing started by scrubbing his legs thoroughly working to get the last bits of annoying sand out of the joints. Once he was done cleaning that up, he glanced over at Deadlock. "Need a hand with your back?" he offered.

There was a pause, then a stiff nod. "Yeah, sure. You?"

Turning towards him, Wing let a muted flash of pleasure at the offer enter his field. "Thank you. It's a lot easier to clean up my wings and back with help, especially when it's sand or sludge. If you don't mind, I'll get started on your back."

The pause this time was a fraction of what it once was before Deadlock turned to offer the vulnerability to his gestalt mate. His field remained close to his plating, yet as Wing worked both field and tight plating began to relax, giving the Aerial better access to both. Wing was careful to keep his moves slow and obvious trying to help soothe any discomfort Deadlock might experience. It wasn't often he accepted help from a member of their gestalt, and Wing wasn't going to waste this opportunity to help knit them closer together. The effort was rewarded with a bit more relaxation, though Deadlock never relaxed as well as any of the others. It simply wasn't part of his nature.

It didn't bother Wing at all. He was simply happy that Deadlock was willing to trust this much today. It made it a good orn. After he finished scrubbing down Deadlock's back, Wing turned and said, "Thanks for helping me."

"Sure," the grounder grunted and went to work. It wasn't as careful as most, but the mech was trying and just like his fighting, he was improving too. It all led Wing to sigh happily and relax his frame and plating. It was still so very nice to have someone to wash up with. By the time they were done and they headed to the lounge for repairs, fingers more than optics knew where every dent and scrape was on both frames.

"There's a cut on your right arm I should tend to," Wing said casually as he opened the repair kit, nodding towards a gash on the back of Deadlock's upper arm near his shoulder. "It'll be easier for me to reach."

A grunt and nod replied, but as Deadlock shifted to offer the best access his field was unusually smooth. Another marker than he was settling as far as Wing was concerned. Patching the cut didn't take long at all, and Wing took the opportunity to repair a few other dents and scrapes across Deadlock's back. "Could you tilt forward just a bit? There's a small dent at the edge of your armor I'm having difficulty reaching."

There was an unreadable flicker in Deadlock's field before he moved, shifting at Wing's direction without complaint. That flicker settled into something more recognizable as the grounder's frame was put to rights and Wing couldn't have been more thrilled to teek it.

Relaxed trust.

Deadlock wasn't just tolerating him, he _trusted_ enough for his frame to lose tension.

Once all the minor injuries on his back were repaired, Deadlock straightened and took the repair kit from Wing. "Your turn," he said gruffly.

Wing willingly surrendered the kit and turned to give Deadlock better access to his frame.


	9. Shift 13: Jazz/Thundercracker

Jazz stood in the doorway to the lounge a moment watching Thundercracker stare blankly out into space. Wing had quietly informed him before going into stasis that no amount of flight time seemed to fix the Seeker's mood for long. Jazz wasn't surprised by the news. After all, the Decepticon had lost his trine, his flock and his rank all in one blow. It wasn't a story so different from Prowl's. Only Prowl had turned that loss into hate and Thundercracker seemed to be spiraling into depression instead. No, this was much closer to Mirage's reaction. Depression, but unwilling to give up.

It was something Jazz knew how to help with, so long as the mech let him in, which Prowl hadn't. Thundercracker, though, he'd already let Jazz in more than Prowl ever had. It might not be full trust, but full trust was a rare thing even before the war shattered society so badly.

He could do this. He had to. Beyond what the new coding was insisting on, Thundercracker was the key to one of two predominant sub-societies in their new city. Wing tied them into the Knights, and Thundercracker tied them into the Seekers. It was too much of a potential advantage to allow the new Seekers to see Thundercracker in such bad shape. They could well blame the gestalt instead of accepting them. It would be all sorts of bad.

Thundercracker had to have realized he was present by now, but the Seeker continued to focus on the window, wings almost drooped against his back. It took Jazz actually entering the room before he finally spoke, "What do you need now?"

The phrasing gave Jazz the perfect opening and he put on a somewhat pathetically needy look that wasn't entirely faked. "Snuggles? A field to recharge with? It's really lonely recharging alone."

Thundercracker stared at him for a long moment, obviously struggling between his own inherent distaste, the push of the gestalt coding and his own growing desire for company. He cracked after a long moment and, with a last glance out the window, turned towards Jazz. "You don't recharge with Deadlock or Prowl?" He asked quietly.

"'Cause unless I'm worried about them, it's not much help. Did it in medbays a lot. It's great for reassuring yourself they'll be okay. Not so much if you're the lonely one," Jazz tried to explain something he never expected the Seeker to ask about.

"That makes sense," Thundercracker said eventually as he stepped towards the only online member of his flock. Jazz had noticed the Seeker recharging more and more frequently with Wing, and he'd occasionally wondered if his creator coding was troubled by the Aerial being in stasis.

"Is that a yes? I can recharge with you?" Jazz asked, perking up and being very careful about the harmonics in 'recharge' to indicate only rest.

Thundercracker flinched a bit before answering, "If it will help you recharge better we can share fields." He finished making his way over to Jazz and began looking the smaller grounder over to see how poorly his flockmate was doing. Jazz didn't teek as poorly as Thundercracker felt, but he couldn't deny there was a level of tired there that came from less than solid recharge. The need to take care of his flock broke through the apathetic haze, and Thundercracker gently pulled Jazz under his wing and started escorting him to the largest berthroom. "You should have mentioned how poorly you were doing earlier," he scolded lightly, ignoring the hypocrisy behind his words.

Jazz simply hummed acceptance of the chastisement and snuggled in close. His field reached out to mesh with Thundercracker's, offering thanks for the comfort. In this moment at least, they were not from opposing sides of a brutally devastating civil war. They weren't a grounder and a Seeker. They weren't even gestalt mates. They were just two sparks that were both desperate for company and quiet solace.

* * *

Thundercracker booted at the same lazy speed as when Wing was snuggled against his chassis and under his wing, and was content to allow it to proceed at that rate. It was nice, more than nice, to have a companionable field to recharge with, and despite his early fears, Jazz was perfectly capable of snuggling and not getting aroused. He still wasn't nice to look at, but his field felt good. Maybe once they woke Deadlock today they should try to convince him to recharge with them as well? Thundercracker tried to push aside the thought almost as soon as it formed, but the hints remained. Yes, Jazz and Deadlock would want to interface and he didn't want to watch or feel that, but it would do all of them some good to spend some recharge time together. The flock should recharge together. It was simply the way things were.

Jazz shifted as he booted up, snuggling closer and extending his field with platonic vibes in it.

"Did you recharge well?" Thundercracker asked quietly, reluctant to rise and content to lay here and enjoy their fields mingling.

"Yes," Jazz smiled and stretched even as his field made it clear he had no desire to move either. "It's really nice to have a strong field close."

"Thank you for helping me remember that our flock needs to be strong for each other." Now that enough time had passed Thundercracker could at least partially admit his own earlier error.

Warmth bubbled up in Jazz's field and saturated his voice. "I'm glad I could help, that you can accept a grounder's touch for the good of us all."

"I don't have much choice," Thundercracker said, but with better humor than Jazz had heard from the Seeker in a long time. "This need to be together is only going to get stronger. We might as well do as much adjusting as we can before we throw things even further out of balance by adding more variables."

"Yeah, like a city at peace that is as unprepared for us as we are for it," Jazz agreed with a huff. "At least we'll have Wing for a buffer. And if we're lucky, some Seekers will like you. It's not like you don't have a lot to offer."

"I was actually referring to me adding a trine into the mix and any of you adding a mate. However, your correct that this is going to be a strange way to meet new Seekers. I am going to a peaceful city tied permanently to four other powerful fighters, three of them grounders. The only one familiar to them is the Aerial Knight I consider my youngling, and the most openly violent of the newcomers is intending to be his apprentice," Thundercracker chuckled, still amazed Wing had convinced Deadlock to try such a radically different lifestyle.

"True. So very true. Though I wouldn't worry about anyone adding a mate anytime soon. Deadlock couldn't process the term if he tried, I've got a few thousand vorns worth of _don't get attached_ training to get over, and Prowl will be far too young to be looking for a few centuries. If Wing doesn't have a mate yet, he's not going to have one soon," Jazz rattled off.

"Thanks for reminding me we'll have Prowl's mentor or mentors to add to the social mix, plus whatever flock I join when I trine again. I'm still not certain what I am going to do with the rest of my existence. Although the Knights might once have suited me, I find I have no real desire to join them," Thundercracker sighed.

"Cop, writer, instructor, creator, guard ... mech, your options are as wide as mine, maybe even more," Jazz grinned up at him. "Don't forget that Wing promised to have you set up with a flock to help you integrate into society again. You'll have a real flock to fly with not long after we land."

Thundercracker couldn't help a small shiver of excitement at the idea of flying with a real flock again after so long. "Hopefully he can follow through with everything he has promised us, but I cannot imagine sane civilian Seekers wouldn't at least be willing to help me adjust. I am worried about what will happen to him when we get to Aelios. Have you been studied up on the law?"

"As much as Wing's put on the pads. Culture too," Jazz nodded. "I may not be much of a sticker for rules and law, but I'm a big believer in knowing them. It's hard to look clean when you don't know what clean means. It'll be a strange city, but I rather like what I've read."

"Most of it appears to be common sense or based on what I was used to as an Air Martial, although some of the rules about intoxicants are going to take some to get used to. From what I've read it looks like we should be able to help defend Wing if it comes to a trial for leaving and bringing us back." Thundercracker shifted a bit. "We'll have to help Wing keep an optic on Deadlock at first. I don't think he'll go too wild with the stimulants, but it won't hurt to monitor each other. There is much we'd all like to forget."

"Understatement of the age," Jazz muttered. "And yeah, we'll need to watch out for each other. I've gone on a few bad runs in my time. It's not unlikely I'll have another before I sort out. I've got a few vorns though, before I get there. There's a lot of exploring and learning to cope with before I'll have enough spare processor time to get suitably morbid. What about you?"

Thundercracker sighed, "I'm done with my moping for now. Once I'm settled with a flock and looking for a trine I may have another dark period or two. It will depend upon how things go."

Jazz nodded and pushed support into his field. "You're never going to be completely alone again. It's not a spark bond, but the gestalt bond is definitely real. At least Wing and I will be around when you need it."

Thundercracker allowed his thanks to settle in his own field. "Yes, and I will be there to support all of you. It is what a flock does."

Jazz's smile was small and soft and reached his field. "There's a lot of glyphs for it, but yeah. Unit, family, clade, clan, flock, trine, gestalt, mates. They take care of each other. We'll take care of each other. One way or another, we'll make this work."

Thundercracker smiled slightly, "Yes, we will, even if it puts us up against ridiculous odds. After all, who would have expected us to last this long?"

A soft laugh greeted that statement. "No one, except perhaps a few who know me too well. And maybe Deadlock. But all of us, together? Nope."

"If we keep this up we might actually survive and thrive in the coming vorns," Thundercracker's engine rumbled briefly as he continued, "I'm actually looking forward to what comes next."

Jazz hummed in hopeful agreement. "I really hope you fly with your new flock well. It'll do all of us good to have a second solid link, and you've probably got the best shot of any of us to settle down quickly."

Thundercracker thought for a moment before answering. "Besides those who stay with the Knights you're probably right. Any Seeker who is not already trined will be interested in someone new they haven't had a chance to court before. Although if you stay with entertaining you should be able to find work and associates fairly quickly."

"Not what I meant, but true. By that standard we'll all do fine," Jazz agreed smoothly and snuggled closer. "We're all survivors after all."

"Speaking of survivors, we should probably wake up Deadlock soon," Thundercracker sighed. "He gets cranky if he thinks he's being slighted."

"And Primus save me from a cranky Deadlock," Jazz laughed and reluctantly disengaged from his effort to see how close they could get to merged plating. 


	10. Shift 16: Jazz/Wing

Wing almost pressed against Jazz as the moved slowly to the beat. He hadn't heard this piece before now; Jazz said it was one of the newer pieces released by a musician named Grazioso. It wasn't as intense as the other dance number Jazz had played for him today, but he was enjoying the opportunity to dance close and mingle fields. He didn't even need to teek to know Jazz felt much the same. They both enjoyed the music and dancing, no matter the style.

When the song came to and end, he dragged Jazz to the lounge with the best view and flopped down with a grin. "That was fun."

"A good partner makes it even better," Jazz chuckled as he settled next to Wing. "At least the two of us have each other to have a good time. Deadlock still won't dance although he likes watching if it's sexy enough."

"I'm sure he uses it as an excuse to avoid foreplay," Wing giggled. "Mech has an amazingly simple processor for one so smart."

"He's never had to use it for much else," Jazz acknowledged cheerfully. "Although he's starting to catch on that it's good stamina and flexibility training."

Wing perked up even more. "Really? That's great news. How's he doing with hide and seek?"

Jazz chuckled lightly, "That one he already had some past experience with so it's going better. He's been searching for supplies in hidden spots for a long time, so we've been taking turns hiding things from each other. We've been having to get creative with the hiding places since it's such a small ship."

"The challenge makes it fun though," Wing grinned. "Somehow I think our quarters are going to be bulging with hidden things."

"War makes subspace rats outa lotsa mechs," Jazz agreed. "We'll have blades, food, repair kits and credits stashed everywhere. Along with anything else that looks useful or needs to be hidden so it doesn't get stolen."

"Hidden from us, or strangers?" Wing asked with a touch of concern. "And no blades. Civilians aren't allowed weapons."

"Will Deadlock count as a civilian if he's your Initiate?" Jazz asked, purposefully avoiding mentioning he'd be hiding weapons from Wing as well if that was the case. "Must stuff will be hidden from strangers of course with some of it by force of habit. Members of a unit don't steal from each other, but everyone will probably have a private stash of energon for a long time."

Sad understanding crossed Wing's features. "A Knight, even a Knight Initiate, is not a civilian. Though his access to non-Knight weapons will be nearly as restricted as a civilian. I know I'll never stop any of you from manufacturing new weapons, but please don't be caught with them. Especially blasters."

Jazz sent a small pulse of comfort through his field to Wing, "Most of us are dangerous enough without a weapon that we should be comfortable without weapons in public by the time we're allowed out in public. Prowl won't be a problem since he'll be a native."

"Good," Wing relaxed a bit. "I don't want any of you to get into trouble. Even without the war there would be culture shock, at least for you and Deadlock. I want you to have as many advantages in adapting as I can give you."

"Offer gladly accepted, and we're going to need every advantage we can get. There's going to be culture shock for everyone," Jazz said with a touch of grim humor. "Intentionally or not Deadlock is going to throw the Knights' expectations sideways. Thundercracker is so used to being in charge it's going to be difficult to automatically dip his wings to almost every Seeker he meets."

Wing couldn't help the grimace. "I know. Even as a little one he knew he was in line for command of his family flock and he's never seemed to do much that didn't involve increasing his authority. I'm just hoping that his mellow nature holds true. Mech's amazingly level from what I know of his past."

"Yeah, he's going to try to rise in rank in his flock simply because it's all he knows. If they're smart they'll eventually let him. The mech is very good at controlling other Seekers, even the flighty ones," Jazz shifted a bit restlessly. "On the up side, I think he's doing a lot better since we started recharging together. Can't say it's been bad for me either. It's a long metacycle alone after you and Deadlock."

Wing sent a bit of pleasure towards Jazz as he said, "I'm glad to hear that you're both finally comfortable enough to recharge together, especially since I know he was having the worst hang-ups about it. I've been lucky that I could recharge with all of you so I haven't had to be alone."

"True, so true, but if we didn't all like and trust you that much we wouldn't be headed where we are," Jazz said seriously. "You made good arguments, but truth of it is that if we didn't all make a good connection with you it wouldn't have been enough. Not with this crew."

Wing tipped his head in acknowledgment of that reality. "Given your occupation, Deadlock's background, Thundercracker's rank and Prowl's tac-net it is amazing we are all managing to work together as well as we do. I will work to continue to prove worthy of the trust given, and I hope that Aelios proves to be the sanctuary for all of you that I have promised."

"All five of us had one thing in common from well before we met. We're all pragmatic survivors when it comes down to it," Jazz offered what he saw as their unifying factor. "That's going to be a big help in making this work as long as what you believe is true."

Wing nodded, acknowledging that before time working with Deadlock and Jazz he had been naive about some of the darker parts of life. "I know Dai Atlas from having trained him and working with him as a Knight. I have seen others arrive and be accepted into Aelios since the city was founded. From everything I know, we should be able to integrate into society. If they do not live up to my expectations and decide to reject us, we still have the option of either going to Cybertron or finding another mechanoid colony."

"If we can escape," Jazz reminded him cautiously. "Once Prowl's wiped, it's going to be _difficult_ to turn him against the city. I may not have known him, but I know the coding that comes standard. He's still crazy-loyal, broken as he is. Repair all the breaks and the concept of leaving his duties is beyond his comprehension. But until then, yeah, we can bolt. I'd say we're all pretty good at it."

Wing grinned mischievously, "From everything I've heard you're particularly good at that."

"Among too many things," Jazz grinned back with matching humor. "But you're no slouch yourself."

"True, much to the frustration of many. What's the best prank you've pulled on officers before you were one?"

Jazz snickered, "I convinced an entire squad that there was a new officer on the base named Cog. Even got him nominated for a medal for valor in combat. He had a tragic accident when the commander wanted to meet him."

"You didn't?" Wing laughed hard. "How did you ever manage that?"

"I had a little inadvertent help from a rather incompetent supply clerk. He mixed up names on a request which doubled my energon ration, and I just ran with it for a while to see how far it could go." Jazz chuckled at the memory. "What was fun was listening to the rest of the base talking about how they knew Cog and what great friends they were with him."

Wing couldn't hold in his snickers and wasn't really trying to. "Oh my. I can't say that's something I tried. I'm more along the lines of dyeing the fountains, or bringing sand to fill someone's berth padding."

"It's not one I've tried to pull on our mecha more than once or twice, although it was one way I used to infiltrate the Decepticons. It doesn't really work if you have an isolated or small base where everyone knows everyone, but it works wonders for a rumor mill," Jazz smiled remembering some of his other pranks. "Ever tried messing with someone's paint supplies? I never was suicidal enough to do it to Tracks or Sunstreaker, but it could be good for a laugh with the right mecha."

"Oh yes, and the washracks. Glitter showers for everyone!" Wing added jubilantly. "It was the brightest the Citadel ever looked. Didn't even care it took all my free time for a metacycle and a half to clean it all up. It was a great sight."

"Everyone needs some sparkle in their lives," Jazz agreed with a chuckle. "I spent three decaorn slowly changing Hot House's room color. He didn't even realize it was happening until someone else asked when he got the time to paint everything."

Wing broke up giggling again. "Oh Primus, I have to try that. That sounds _awesome_."

"It was a bit easier because the mech doesn't pay attention to his surroundings. It'd be almost impossible to pull off otherwise," Jazz warned playfully.

"I'm sure of it," Wing continued to snicker. "Still worth a try. Maybe instead of a complete repaint, I'll add a pattern in a faintly different color, making the shift just a shade more pronounced each orn until it's noticed. Just to see how long it takes."

"That would be a good one," Jazz grinned, picturing how different Autobots would have reacted to that idea. "You can always call it an observational training exercise. I got away with a few pranks like that once I had a bit of rank."

"Oh, especially in public areas!" Wing grinned more. "Maybe the bottom of a mecha-koi pond. Or the rim. Or glitter the ponds. Just a little. Oil that thin shimmers and sparkles in the light anyway. It could take a while."

"It could," Jazz couldn't help the grin. "Though speaking of glitter, what about a glitter bomb? Maybe as part of a fireworks display. I remember those used to happen."

"Definitely," Wing's optics glittered almost as much as his field. "Set to go off directly over the Citadel. Talk about glitter everywhere."

"It'll take forever cleaning it up, but it'd be worth it for the show." Jazz agreed cheerfully.


	11. Shift 19: Everyone

"Ready?" Jazz looked at Thundercracker as a timer went off in his processor.

"I am ready," Thundercracker answered as they stood to go into the double-sized berthroom where their three gestalt mates were in stasis.

As they entered the room Thundercracker instinctively checked on the most vulnerable member of their flock. Prowl was still deep in stasis and wouldn't be voluntarily onlining any time soon. It did still bother him to have one of their team so helpless, but circumstances still made it impossible for the Praxian to join them. Hopefully this would change once they reached their destination.

Wing was next, as the other flier was the most important to Thundercracker. While still in deep stasis, he looked and teeked as good as he had just before shutting down. Deadlock's field was his usual aggressive self, though heavily muted by stasis.

"So, Wing or Deadlock first?" Jazz let him choose.

"Deadlock," Thundercracker decided. "The three of us need to talk about our future, and what Wing doesn't know can't implicate him."

"So true," Jazz nodded and walked up to the other grounder to initiate his boot sequence, then stepped back to be clear just in case he booted aggressive.

Deadlock didn't do a fast combat boot, which was the clearest sign of his improved opinion of their flock that Thundercracker had seen so far.

"Why's Wing still offline? We bailing on his plan and skipping out?" Deadlock asked after looking around.

"No," Jazz said firmly. "The three of us are going to make sure this is really what we want where he can't be implicated. Come on, there's energon in the rec room."

Thundercracker couldn't help but be amused as the pair of Decepticons willingly followed the Autobot saboteur into the lounge for energon. It wasn't a position he'd ever imagined being in, but it made perfect sense with the way their lives had gone so far. Once they all had a cube and were seated, he started talking, "Wing has painted an almost idyllic picture of Aelios. Perhaps too idyllic for them to truly accept us. Also, I've looked over the laws he'd given us, and I am concerned about what will happen to him once he returns."

"He's got a serious case of a morganite visor," Jazz agreed. "That said, I don't think he's intentionally let anything out."

"Except what happens to him," Deadlock shook his help. "Mech _knows_ something is going to happen to him. Probably even what. Not telling us though. It's a Knight thing. I got that much out of him."

"It concerns me he's being this vague knowing what the three of us have experienced, although I do think he expects to survive it. I don't think he would willingly do anything that might deactivate him knowing it would jeopardize us and Flightplan," Thundercracker agreed.

"So, anything else bothering folks about what we know, or don't know?" Jazz pressed forward. "We'll corner him on what he's not saying about his fate when we wake him up."

"No weapons? Does he even pretend to think we aren't going to be armed?" Deadlock asked.

Thundercracker flicked his wings in dismissal, "No, but he doesn't want to know about what we will have or where. I do agree we shouldn't try to hide the blasters."

"Yeah. Small blades and hand to hand. We're all good enough to hold our own," Jazz agreed, then huffed. "They may call the daggers weapons, but the civilian world has lots of blades that are legal. We can turn in most of our blades and work on picking up a few more legal ones. Things we're allowed to have."

Deadlock grunted, then looked between the pair he readily acknowledged as far smarter than he was. "So if this goes bad once we've landed, any plans on getting out?"

Thundercracker thought for a klik before answering with a soft rumble, "Flightplan is the best option to get out of there if things go immediately wrong. Even with Dai Atlas in charge I doubt they are prepared to deal with a gestalt, especially one with our capabilities. I will still have my Sigma ability available even after they disarm us."

"It'll get us out of the city, but not far off planet," Deadlock pointed out. "We need to keep this ship."

"Agreed. I don't think they'd immediately destroy it considering Wing had a ship he used to leave. We might want to quiz Wing on the other escape attempt to find out what went wrong and right in that case," Thundercracker thought for a bit out loud.

Jazz nodded and pulled a cube of energon for Deadlock, then one for Thundercracker and himself before flopping down in a chair. "Another thing to pin Wing down on. We're trusting him with a lot. He'd better trust us with what we want."

"Is it as creepy to you that we're all trusting Wing this much?" Deadlock growled as he grabbed the new cube and set the empty one aside. "I mean, gestalt coding aside, he was a complete stranger who we first met slave coded to the Nijihito."

"Definitely," Jazz snorted. "Part desperation, part wanting to survive and part gestalt code is my guess. It's not like we could go back to Cybertron."

"Add creator coding into the mix," Thundercracker reluctantly pointed out. "I know he is older than me, but he's been so sheltered he still feels like a fledgling compared to us. The fact that he is still so idealistic is one reason I do believe this city might be close to the sanctuary he has portrayed it to be."

"It certainly is for him. But then the Knights weren't exactly what you could call world-wise even back on Cybertron," Jazz agreed with caution. "They've been isolated for as long as records have existed of them. Even my mentor barely knew them."

"If they're all as naive as Wing is we'll easily race circles around them. Jazz and I are fixing that, but I'm amazed he hasn't been robbed blind and stripped for parts yet," Deadlock grumbled.

"I doubt anyone would consider Dai Atlas unworldly, and it's possible he is partially responsible for Wing remaining this way," Thundercracker pointed out. "He may have found Wing a refreshing change after dealing with the Primes and Imperial Court for so long."

"Never mind the military," Jazz pointed out. "Sans the insane leadership, it had a lot in common with the Cons socially. But TC's right. This population was pulled from Cybertron's. Even if the Knights are largely that innocent, the civvies won't be. They'll have at least some grasp of what's going on."

"And they may be the hardest to convince to accept us. After all, they fled the war we continued to fight. Battle-hardened soldiers are hardly ideal civilian neighbors," Thundercracker agreed.

"They won't have to know what we were, at least not in general," Jazz pointed out. "I'm sure they're going to demand we give up our weapons and war-frames, and even if they don't we can pass it off to most as gestalt frame, not war frame. When they left the majority were still civvies. Of course, that assumes that you can keep that a secret from your new flock and trine," he looked over at the Seeker.

Platting shivered. "No. Not from them. Maybe from anyone not linked to them, or at least from those not Seeker. That's too large a lie."

Jazz growled a bit before shrugging, "That'll throw out hiding that information then, although it would be a lot worse for you if they found out later. Is it going to be a problem or a help that you've already had two trines in the past?"

"Given one was murdered and the other broken against my will by the gestalt bond, it won't make much difference. It would be very different if either had been broken voluntarily. I'm sure many creators would be unhappy about me, though it would have more to do with other factors, particularly my age. I expect most available to trine to be young, likely created after they left. My status at the bottom of the pecking order won't help either." Thundercracker hummed and looked at Jazz. "If Deadlock and Wing are willing, I'll keep your history quiet by omission if you'd like."

Jazz thought for a long moment before answering, "SpecOps and ISO don't have very good reputations with most civilians, so keeping quiet about that would be appreciated. I'm not going to try to hide all my skills; Wing knows what I am and thinks some of my skills will be useful."

"So Autobot, yes. SpecOps, no," Deadlock summarized.

"You got it mech," Jazz grinned and Thundercracker hummed his acceptance.

"So what function did you have?" Thundercracker asked.

"Mmm, should probably chat with Wing about that, but I'm angling towards general entertainer. I sing, DJ, play most instruments passably and a few well, dance several styles, do acrobatics and am a better-than-passable actor," Jazz rattled off all that 'entertainer' meant to him. "A lot of what made me a good agent translates to the function fairly well."

"Sounds good as long as Wing is willing to keep quiet about the rest of it," Deadlock frowned, "Back to what you said earlier, I don't know how much armor they can strip off us since we have Flightplan in the mix. Even if they don't like it on civilians I might be able to keep most of mine if I'm with the Knights."

Thundercracker sighed, "I hope Wing can keep you as an Initiate so you don't have to deal with someone else. We all agree Dai Atlas would be a fool not to keep Prowl close once he's reformatted and his true abilities revealed. I expect he will most likely be placed with another Knight as an Initiate."

"Or at least as his CO. Mech needs a level of structure that just doesn't exist in civilian society," Jazz nodded. "I'm sure some things Wing can only gave a guess about, but do we want to sort anything else out before we wake him?"

Thundercracker thought for a long klik before shaking his head, "Not at the moment. We've covered most of the issues that concern me. If no one has any objections, I'll go wake him."

"Go for it," Jazz nodded, with Deadlock's grunt of agreement sending the Seeker off.

As Thundercracker watched as teeked Wing boot, he felt his creator protocols gradually settle down with the obvious health against him. Once Wing onlined his optics and stretched, Thundercracker said, "Good orn. Would you like some energon?"

"Definitely. How is everyone?" Wing purred and scooted closer to the edge so he could snuggle against the Seeker while he drank the offered cube.

"Online and ready to ask you a few more questions," Thundercracker answered simply, watching Wing refuel and enjoying the active field pressed against him.

"Not surprised," he sighed between sips. "Anything in particular?"

"Mostly about the future, but I'll leave the questions for when we join them," Thundercracker said calmly. He settled his coding a bit by repeating that Wing was an adult and that some of these questions were to help protect him. The easy acceptance in Wing's field both hurt and helped his efforts, but as the Knight drew himself up, ready to stand and face the questions, the creator coding settled quickly. Like _this_ Wing didn't come across as nearly so young.

"Ready?" Wing asked with a light hand on Thundercracker's arm.

"Ready," Thundercracker nodded and the pair walked into the lounge where Deadlock and Jazz were sitting practicing another dexterity exercise by spinning blades around in their hands without getting cut. Both put the blades away under various armor pieces and waited for Thundercracker and Wing joined them.

"I assume everything's in order since Thundercracker let you come in here?" Deadlock chuckled lightly.

"I'm good. How are both of you?" Wing asked as he went for a second cube and then settled in a chair by himself after a glance at Thundercracker. They'd all sit separately for this.

"I'll be better after you start answering a few questions you've done a poor job avoiding," Deadlock grunted. "Starting with what's going to happen to you once we get there."

"I will be punished for my escape," the Knight answered quietly. "He won't permanently damage me for it. I came back of my own will."

"What kind of punishment," Deadlock pushed, wanting to know more about the Knights he was considering joining. He also noticed the fact that Wing was stressing that he wouldn't be permanently damaged bothered him a bit.

"That is up to Dai Atlas, as the Sovereign of Light. I am sure there will be at least one difficult binding, likely several. I expect to be damaged and fined and have to work double shifts for twice as long as I've been gone. That I was imprisoned for several vorns will reduce both penalty and penance," he struggled to explain. "He is allowed to assign any punishment for what I did. I'm judging on what he'd done when I slipped away and didn't make it back in time for my duties."

"What about what will happen for bringing us back with you?" Thundercracker asked, trying to fight down his own anger at the idea of someone hurting Wing like that even though most of it was reasonable by Decepticon code. He didn't know the details of what a binding was exactly but Deadlock seemed to recognize and understand the term. If the warrior wasn't freaked out by it, it couldn't be that bad.

"As long as you behave well and try to adapt, nothing," Wing answered with much more certainty. "It's not a crime to bring in someone you're willing to vouch for, and I am."

"So it's a crime to leave the city but not a crime to introduce new mecha into the city?" Deadlock looked a bit confused.

"That's right," Wing smiled and nodded firmly. "Though you must admit that if you don't leave the odds of bringing anyone in is pretty low. Rules are like that to cover crash victims and the like. The concern is about anyone outside the city learning where it is. Thus why I've tried my best to avoid letting anyone know where we're going. When we get there I can say honestly that I did my best and didn't tell anyone where it is."

"Even us," Jazz said with an understanding nod. "That makes sense."

"What about when we're introduced to Aelios? How much do they need to know?" Thundercracker asked.

"I'll always advise the full truth, all of it, because sooner or later it's going to be found out," Wing squirmed uneasily. "But as long as you don't actually lie... it's not lying that's the most important thing."

"So I don't have to give every designation I've killed or every crime I've committed, as long as I'm not asked outright to list them," Jazz put forward a more specific example.

"No, you don't, though you will be asked if you've done anything against the law in the city and why," Wing tried to make it sound less problematic that it could be. "Remember, you're explaining this to Dai Atlas. He's been in war. He knows a lot of what happens in war doesn't reflect much on the mecha's behavior in peace. There are a lot of former military among the Knights. I may not understand war, but plenty of us do."

"Do we have to tell everyone in the city besides Dai Atlas that he's the head of Spec Ops and Prowl's the Autobot's Chief Tactician?" Thundercracker asked. "Jazz pointed out earlier that ISO does not have the best reputation among civilians."

Wing shook his helm quickly and all three relaxed a bit. "Outside of official investigations where you are asked about your past before the city, nothing exists before your arrival. You may want to explain how you acquired a skill, or you might be asked, but it's not required that you tell anyone. In most situations it's not even required that you tell any version of the truth. Just keep in mind that it is a relatively small city and telling too many lies will get around eventually. Almost everyone will accept a polite version of 'I don't like to talk about it' as a valid answer."

"So just like any undercover job being consistent is important," Jazz nodded accepting the reality that at least a few mecha would know what he was. "I can simply explain that I was an entertainer and avoid discussing what else I was doing at the time."

"That really shouldn't be a problem," Wing encouraged him. "If you get serious about someone you really should tell them at least the basics of the full truth, but I believe that will be a long time coming."

"Yeah, I'm not partial to the whole mate thing. Just not my gig to have that serious a liability," Jazz agreed.

"I'll be telling more, and far sooner, but still as few details of the war as I can manage," Thundercracker agreed. "Unlike Jazz and Deadlock, my pre-war function is one I'm proud of and was respectable."

"The fact that you were an Air Martial in Vos will be a plus for most citizens whether they are fliers or grounders," Wing agreed. "It should also help your integration into the Seeker community."

"I'm not telling anyone much of anything," Deadlock grumbled.

"As long as you're honest with Dai Atlas during the interviews, no one is going to make you. How you socialize is your choice," Wing assured him, then glanced around. "Were there any other points you want clarified?"

"Are you ready to bail if they won't accept us?" Deadlock asked bluntly. "Do you know how we'll be able to get back to the ship and get out of here if that happens?"

Wing flinched as his field curled in on itself in a reflex to protect.

"I am, if we have to," the Knight whispered. "But what do you mean how to get back to the ship?"

"Are we going to have to fight our way out of there if they don't want us?" Deadlock asked. "Especially since we'll know where the city is."

"Are you really that concerned?" Wing asked them all, trying to gauge how much was preparedness paranoia and how much was genuine expectation this wouldn't work.

"There's honest concern, even if we aren't expecting it to fall apart," Jazz gave a glance at each of the others to confirm that was their standing too.

"I'm everything they don't want," Deadlock pointed out with a grumble.

"That's not true," Wing addressed Deadlock first. "Sure, the civilians won't want you, but you aren't going to be a civilian. Your spark, your nature, are well known among the Knights. You aren't going to be the only berserker we have."

Everyone stared at him.

"There's another Knight who has the same ability, and the same problems. Kimark. I knew the traits, just not what you called it," Wing explained to them. "He was a gladiator in Kaon before he found his way to the Citadel."

"You've never seen Kimark berserk but you've heard the stories about it," Thundercracker said rather than asked, finally understanding Wing's odd reactions to Deadlock's previous rage.

"He was a gladiator like Megatron?" Deadlock asked, interested despite himself. It wasn't often he got to meet a fellow berserker, especially one he might be able to spar with on a regular basis.

"He was a gladiator, yes. He left when his partner-mate was deactivated in a match. I'm not close to him, but we know each other as Knights," Wing nodded. "I'm not sure if he was _like_ Megatron."

"He wouldn't be completely like Megatron," Deadlock agreed, knowing no one could really be compared to the Decepticon leader.

"No, but if he is a part of the Knights than the rest of us have a good chance of at least being tolerated among the Knights," Thundercracker felt a little more hopeful that they would have a support basis as they learned to adapt.

"Okay, now back to the subject. How are you planning to get us back to the shuttle and in space if this goes sideways?" Jazz prompted.

With a deep sigh Wing stilled to really think. Then think some more. Then looked between them. "Right after we introduce ourselves, or when there's time to plan to sneak out?"

"Depends upon how badly things go," Jazz admitted. "Flightplan can get us out of there immediately, especially if they don't know about him yet. Getting out later will require more work and would have to happen before Prowl is reformatted. You know what went wrong when Crashcourse tried to get away?"

"Not really. I know he had to be brought back many times. Sometimes I was in the party, sometimes I wasn't, but he always fought us. I wasn't there when he deactivated, but it was from a high fall near the cavern wall. A grounder like him can't survive a crash from the height of a tower or more. No one had been sent after him that orn, so it shouldn't have been part of a fight. He might have slipped trying to climb to the higher tunnels. It's easy for fliers to reach, but the access tunnels are not easy for grounders to get to."

"So it's a good thing I've been learning to tolerate flying then," Deadlock grunted.

"So Crashcourse couldn't leave once he accidentally got there. So we know how far they'll go forcing us to stay in their utopia," Jazz said.

"Whatever it takes," Wing agreed quietly. "Doesn't meant you can't escape if you know what you're doing and can plan."

"You know specifics and I'm one of the best at getting out of places I shouldn't, with or without knowing the layout," Jazz nodded. "I can't say I'm thrilled about how determined they are to keep folks, but as you said, you know how and we're not a basic grunt."

"So ... any more concerns?" Wing looked around.

"More of a plan," Jazz spoke up. "Land the shuttle on the dark side of a moon. You fly in. If things seem good, we can go in as Flightplan. They never get the shuttle, so it'll be there if things go bad before Prowl's reformatted. If things work well, we can always tell them about it later."

"They will probably look for the shuttle, but it seems like a sound plan," Thundercracker agreed.

"Is Prowl going to go for this plan when he finds out we're here instead of Cybertron?" Deadlock asked. "Or are we going in as the one-armed gestalt with an angry, uncooperative leg?"

Wing winced as he worked on that problem.

"We can't bring Prowl out of stasis. You've seen him fight. He has to be carried in, one way or another," Jazz said firmly and got a nod from Wing.

"Okay, if I can't come back, Flightplan will have to land without one arm and leg while carrying Prowl. Or have him somehow secured for entry." Wing finally suggested. "I'm going to argue that it'll work a lot better given the situation if I go back to get you. We won't have to merge that way."

"Hay, how good is their near-space scanning network?" Jazz asked.

"Pretty good," Wing looked at him.

"Well, we could land planetside, come in from the far side if that's better, and land the ship somewhere within driving distance," Jazz suggested.

"I like that better," Deadlock instantly voted for the option where he didn't have to fly.

"Securing Prowl's frame to one of us before we approach the Knights sounds like the best option," Thundercracker agreed. "That will probably be easiest from the planet. It also means the grounders in the flock will have easier access to the ship if we have to escape."

"There are places I know to hide the ship," Wing nodded, then looked at Jazz.

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't good with it," he shrugged. "Hav'ta say I'm with TC on this one. I'd be nice to be able to reach the ship without an airlift."

"Then we'll do that," Wing relaxed that so far no one was actually trying to stop him from returning him.


End file.
